Date: Wed, 6 Apr 2016 04:10:27 +0100 (BST)
From: Kit Rudo <kitrudo@tutamail.com>
Subject: Please Uncle A- Part 1

       Starting with the obvious: this is a fictional story. It has never
happened. It is not an invitation for you to make it happen. If you're
going to get sexy, do it with consenting adults and please be safe.
Also, if it's illegal for you to be reading this type of fiction where
you live, or if you are under 18, please hit the back button.

       And please also consider supporting Nifty by making a donation.

       The following is a story in which the roles of man and boy are
highlighted and their age gap is capitalized on, with a focus on
footplay, anal play, slight domestic power imbalance, mild infantilism,
as well as some edging. If that's not your thing, you've been warned.

       This is my first story ever published. Feedback is enouraged and
appreciated, or even a quick hello![kitrudo@tutamail.com]
       +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

       PLEASE UNCLE A - PART 1
       By Kit Rudo
       M/b, footplay, oral, buttplay
       ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


       She'd left him with me again. Cheryl, my partner of two years, was
on her way to a semi-regular girls' night out when she dropped Aiden off
at my place. It was an arrangement we'd had for just over a year now.
The fact that we enjoy each other's company certainly is a reason why
this 13-year-old boy would not be staying home alone tonight. Another
reason is that his mother may be just a tad overprotective of her baby.
I guess that's in part because he doesn't look a day older than 11. Kid
is the definition of a late bloomer. He's known as the runt of the 8th
grade. But when Mom has to go out, he's perfectly happy having Uncle
Alex, yours truly, babysit him.

When I answered the door, he was standing there on his own. Can't blame
Cheryl for wanting to juice every last minute out of her very few hours
a month of free time. He looked up at me and gave me the slightest
smile. Aiden is not at all very expressive. A hint of a shy smile is all
you'll get most of the time, and I've learned to cherish even that.

I picked him up and sat him on my hip, and he eagerly clutched onto me,
leaning in to give me a tender, signature Aiden kiss.

What? Oh, right, that. Yes, Aiden and I are close "that way." I've been
fucking him for over a year now. Any questions?

I carried him over to the couch where I sat down with him straddling my
lap.

"How's my little stud puppy doing today?"

"I missed you." He subtly, dare I say unconsciously, pressed his groin
further into me.

"I've missed you too, baby boy." I kissed his forehead. The corner of
Aiden's mouth twitched and he did some more squirming. Pressing my nose
against his short curls, I inhaled the scent of a day's worth of young
boy activity mingled with remnants of apple shampoo from his morning
shower.

"Did you clean up good when you got home today?"

My hand wandered down to cradle his bottom suggestively, but he knew
what I meant. He knew I expected him to be reasonably clean in certain
places and that I would soon be checking. And he sure didn't mind having
to freshen up some in exchange for the things I would do to him. He
nodded steadily, his eyes wide and expectant.

Between his rubbing on my lap and the fact that I hadn't seen my boy in
almost a full week, I was boning up pretty quickly. Seeing no reason to
delay what was about to happen, I scooted forward and lifted him up,
setting him down on his feet between my knees.

"Let's take a look."

Reaching for his waist, I started unbottoning, then unzipping his jeans,
and was greeted with the words "Fruit of the Loom," printed in navy blue
on a spotless white waistband. I then bent down and untied his
shoelaces, then picked up one foot, slipped it out of its sneaker,
followed by the other, and braced myself for the reveal. I peeled the
sock off his left foot and had to remember to pick up my jaw lest I
drool all over myself. In my hand was one half of a picture-perfect (and
as you'll soon find out, all kinds of other-perfects) pair of size 6
boyfeet. Small, soft, plump, and warm. And seemingly freshly washed. I
let them go, and reached up for the waistband of his jeans again, this
time grasping it and pulling down, exposing first the white cotton of
his underwear, followed by smooth, fleshy thighs, knobby knees, and taut
calves as his pants pooled around his ankles.

"Step out," I said as I placed my hands on his tummy and lower back to
steady him. I picked up his pants and he watched as I folded them and
set them aside, waiting for the next step of the routine. I guided him
towards me, so I could lean over his shoulder and check the seat of his
undies. I ran my hand across the cotton-covered treasure. The briefs fit
him tight, and were crisp, cool, and spotless. It was obvious he had
slipped them on just before coming over. Aiden would get a lot of shit
from his classmates if he wore tighty-whities to school, especially
being "the runt", so he only changed into them when he got home. He'd
wear them to bed, but especially, when he'd be spending quality time
with his Uncle A. He still liked them better than boxer briefs, and that
was just fine by me.

He shivered as he felt my hand ride up to the small of his back, then
back down, this time my fingers slipping underneath the elasticated
waistband. My heart rate increased as I made contact with the bare flesh
of his bottom, and it almost spiked when I pulled his underwear
outwards, bringing into view the swell of his sweet cheeks and the deep
crevice that separated them. Heaven on earth. I had to remind myself
that this was nothing more than an underwear check yet, and seeing
nothing flag-worthy, I slipped my hand out and let the briefs encase his
bottom once again. I would've gladly assigned a few hours for this
procedure but I knew that my little Dennie, now more than a little
exposed, and having no idea what I was doing, seeing, or thinking, was
anxious enough to hear the verdict.

I scooted back into the couch, allowing him to face me again, and with a
reassuring smile, gently patted his rump and said, "Good job, Dennie."

Considering how mellow he usually is, he practically launched himself
back into my lap and wrapped his little arms around my neck. Poor
sweetie. He was so eager to please and afraid to disappoint. I could
understand his reaction to having his bottom inspected being so
emotionally charged and confusing. Here I am, a man who interacts with
his most private places in such a secret, illicit, and, in his mind,
grown-up way. Yet I'm also doing things that are awfully reminiscent of
embarrassing or unwanted childhood procedures that he used to be or is
still subjected to.

A boy's bottom is the core of his innocent, youthful existence. He
associates it with medical attention, (which can range from the
embarrassment of having his temperature taken, to the discomfort of
getting an enema, to the sheer pain of shots) hygiene issues (a concept
usually too big for a boy to grasp, if he even cares to,) and, in some
cases, punishment. All with the common theme of being "for his own
good." So when I check his bottom for cleanliness, even if my intentions
are ultimately sexual, it's hard for him to make the distinction between
that and other types of embarrassing treatment at the hands of other
adults. Take away the element of embarassment and suddenly he's entirely
comfortable. Promise him a finger up his butt and he can't wait for it.
But if said finger is inserting a suppository in there, he'll bury his
face in a pillow. Even if the finger belongs to the subject of his
sexual dreams, a man he's rarely shy around, it may as well be his mom,
his paediatrician, or the school nurse doing the deed. He's simply too
young to think of it as anything but childish and embarassing.


I turned him around so his back was resting against my chest and
enveloped him in a bear hug. There he was, sat on my lap wearing nothing
but a polo shirt and briefs. My hand found its way to his inner thigh.

"I'm happy you're here, angel." I rocked him gently from side to side.
"Did you have a good day at school today?"

"Yeah," he breathed out. I thumbed his right nipple through his shirt.

"Any tests?" my other thumb grazed the right leg opening of his briefs,
which was gradually pulling away from his groin as Dennie's nail grew
increasingly appreciative of my company.

"History" ... it slipped underneath the hem.

My lips were millimeters away from his delicate ear. "How'd you do?"

He gulped. "Aced it. I think." My fingernail skimmed the side of his
tight scrotum.

"Attaboy, Dennie." I kissed his earlobe. Took it between my teeth.
Pulled gently.

"Nnhhh" He squirmed back against me.

"Any trouble with teachers?"

"Mrs. Jenkins still hates me." His hand absentmindedly hovered over to
play with his pecker.

"She's just jealous of your complexion." I pushed his hand away.

He giggled. My thumb was now tracing an outline of the tent poking out
the front on his briefs. He was dead serious again.

"Anything new with that bully? What's his name... Brock... Jock..." I
contained his package in the palm of my hand.

"Jonas," he panted.

"Whatever." My hand slipped inside his undies and groped his stiffy and
marbles.

"Ohh," he reacted. "He was sick today, apparently."

"Good." I moved my other hand to his chin. Dragged my thumb over his
lips. Then I pushed my middle finger between them until they parted.
"Get it nice and wet for me, kiddo." He immediately started nursing
hungrily, working his salivary glands to coat my finger up to the second
knuckle.

"And what did you have for lunch, sweetie?" I pulled my finger out of
his mouth and my left hand replaced the right inside his underwear. I
was able to cup his skinny, throbbing peter and miniature scrotum while
the tip of my middle finger snuck between his cheeks.

"Muunhhh-Mac n' Cheese." His pitch was significantly higher and whinier
now that my slicked up digit was greeting his pulsing wrinkle. Dennie
rocked himself against my yet immobile finger, eager to maximize contact
and willing me to push into his moist cavity. I did no more than tease
around his anus, drawing concentric circles that very gradually got
smaller and smaller, edging into the very center of my target. Dennie
humped his boycock against my wrist as I confronted his outer sphincter
muscle, occasionally using a bit more pressure and adding a few decibels
to his moans.

"Sounds yummy." I stuck my tongue in his ear. "Why don't I take you to
bed now?"

He moaned his wordless response, so I pressed on.

"Would you like that? You want me to carry you to my room? Lay you down
on my bed? Undress you? Hmm? Make love to you?"

"Ngh, yes please."

Such a polite little boy.

With a final scratch at his backdoor, I slipped my hand out of his
undies, hooked my arm under both of his legs and stood up, still holding
him against my chest. I made my way towards my bedroom, leaving behind
his pants, socks, and sneakers. Leaving behind my patience for this
slow-paced, blas‚ play. I had dipped my feet into the water and now it
was time to take the plunge.


In my room, I set him down on my bed. I laid him on his back and grabbed
his ankles to steer him towards me, with his bottom just at the edge of
the matress. I grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, revealing
his smooth tummy, pausing briefly to scatter some kisses across the
soft, warm surface. My Dennie was clearly and quite literally in heat. I
pushed the t-shirt up and moved on to his little nipples, giving each a
brief tongue-tease as they hardened in response to the stimulation.
Dennie's breathing got heavier.

"Let's get this off, baby."

He lifted his arms and I pulled the shirt up and off him. When his head
was out of the collar, he opened his eyes to see my face up close. He
gave me such a loving look. The same look that had captured my attention
the second Cheryl had invited me over to meet her precious baby and only
child. He had barely said anything that evening but I'll be damned if
his eyes didn't speak volumes. I wonder if he knew how much his eyes
were giving away. For someone so shy, he must have had all his defenses
up. But I'll be damned if that sparkle in his eyes didn't give away his
most vulnerable thoughts. He looked at me with such admiration. His
father had passed when he was quite young and Cheryl had only recently
started dating. Meeting me was his first encounter with a boyfriend.
With a potential future Daddy. He wasn't used to seeing a man in his
home, in such close proximity, and getting so comfortably acquainted
with his mom. Some amount of idolization was to be expected, and he
could do nothing to mask his apparent craving for the company and
attention of a father figure, not when he wasn't even aware such a
craving existed.


He was the one who went in for a kiss. Craned his neck and pressed his
lips against mine. They were tender and moist. His kiss was as
aggressive as he could make it. He parted his lips and claimed access
with his tongue. I did the same, engulfing his tongue and invading his
mouth with mine. Little boys' tongues are such lively organs. Small,
wriggling, excited, and oh so warm. I tasted his after-school snack of
milk and cookies, and the natural sweetness of his mouth. I enjoyed the
simplicity of the moment. Kissing for kissing's sake. My little boy was
lying there in nothing but his tighty-whities, the picture of boyish
innocence.

Grabbing his ankles as I stood, I brought his feet up and to hover right
under my face. My heartbeat picked up. This moment was always a big deal
for me. Let me tell you something about boyfeet. I've always thought
that handling a boy's feet, especially in this position, is a paramount
form of domination. They say that cats show you their bellies as a sign
of trust. I don't know how true that is, but it makes sense. Cats are
paranoid, defensive creatures, and to put themselves in such a
vulnerable position, they're probably feeling pretty damn comfortable.
Similarly, if a boy is lying prone, his feet up in the air, he's quite
far from having any control over his position, especially if you're
literally holding his feet. Now, obviously, the difference between
Dennie and some cat is that Dennie didn't exactly put himself in this
position. When my fingers closed around his ankles, he lost control of
his position, and the ability to stand up tall, to claim space, to move,
to run away. What else could he do but lay there, as long as his soles
were pointed towards the ceiling.

And oh, what a sight those soles were. Still, to this day, I'm puzzled
by how smooth a little boy's soles stay, regardless how active they are.
Seeing how creamy the pink undersides of those puppies were, you'd think
he'd been walking on clouds his whole life.

I pressed those soles against my chest and was greeted with a close-up
view of twenty little piggies. Individually cute beyond measure, the sum
of his toes was to-die-for and seeing them immediately got my tongue
twitching inside my mouth. I bent down and kissed both Big toes lightly.
A taste and promise of what lay ahead.

Before proceeding, I needed him to be completely bare. Pulling him up by
the ankles with one hand so his bottom lifted up off the bed, I reached
for the waistband of his undies with the other hand and slipped them up
his legs. When they were past his knees, I took them between my teeth
and pulled them off the rest of the way and tossed them aside.

I took a minute to look down between his stretched out legs, and took in
the sight of his bare, smooth groin. A stiff, skinny little pecker, no
longer than 3 inches, with its pink head peeking out of its foreskin,
pointed straight up at me. At its base was a pair of marbles encased in
a tight scrotum, its texture still light in colour, almost transluscent.

I leaned down, pulling his legs apart and nuzzled the base of his
boycock, the crook of his sack, with the tip of my nose. Inhaling deep,
I tried to keep up with all the scents his little parcel was exuding.
His intimate heat radiated a smell so pure, so unique, so natural, like
sniffing a baby's head. There was contrast and harmony. Like spring and
a fresh loaf of sourdough. Flowery and yeasty and incredibly sweet. I
moved up to tease his shiny head, taking it between my lips and greeting
his slit with my probing tongue. Dennie moaned his agreement.

"Yeahhh," he whimpered. "More."

So I took it all in. Down to the base, and then I popped his balls in
too. He thrust up to meet me halfway, to feed me his eager boyhood. I
sucked on his private parts until he could visualize the approach of his
climax.

"Uhhhh. Yeah! Please, don't stop!"

Unfortunately for him, I did have other plans for us. So I released him
from my mouth and kissed my way up his inner thigh, and all the way up
to his feet.

"Nnnnnnn." He whined. "Please! I wanna cum!"

I pressed his left sole to my face, feeling its warmth from steeping
inside his socks, and planted a vigorous kiss on the pad, right at the
base of his toes. I dragged my tongue up from the heel, following the
arch all the way up. I made out with his fleshier instep. Finally, I
cupped the top of his foot in both hands and spread his toes a little,
preparing to go in for my favourite bite of this meal. I zeroed in one
the gap between big toe and second toe, snaked my tongue out and got to
licking that sweet little gap. Where the cushy, rounded ball of his foot
meets the dainty, skinny roots of his toes. I was full-on slobbering
over his little tootsies, eventually taking all 5 toes of each foot in
turn completely and easily into my ravished mouth.

This was perhaps the most selfish part of our sexual escapades. Not
because Dennie didn't enjoy having his feet licked, kissed and sucked.
But by actively neglecting his other parts and teasing him with his feet
was getting him riled up beyond what a little boy could handle, even one
as patient and submissive as my Dennie. Especially when I bent down
lower while keeping his feet in my face, bringing his knees closer to
his shoulders and splaying him open, exposing his quivering rosebud to
the cool air of the room.

"Mmm. Baby got such nummy little toes." He was starting to get antsy and
I could see his pink starfish puckering. I took a break from his feet
and leaned over him, our faces almost touching. I stared him down for a
few seconds, then whispered right into his ear.

"I know you're itchin' for attention down there. And soon enough I'll be
lapping away at your little pussy but good. But right now, Uncle A's
busy enjoying some piggies."

"Nnghh," he whined. "Please, just a little bit. Just, please, just a
quick kiss, Uncle A."

I stared at him tauntingly before scooting down the bed, my hands still
pressing his knees to his shoulders. My face came closer to his spread-
open crack. I zeroed in on his pucker. The tip of my nose brushed his
taint and I exhaled, tickling his frantically winking slit.

And just like that, I backed away, sat up again, and brought his
slicked-up puppies back where they belonged. Dennie grimaced as soon as
he realized what I had done, and with a long, whiney "Nooooo," looked
like he could cry.

"Patience, little boy," I said in a firm tone, nowhere near whispering
now.

The satisfaction I got form the principle of doing to Dennie what I
wanted, when I wanted, was the only thing that got me through this
little trick with my sanity intact. I mean, I love eating him out beyond
words. In a way, I had just denied myself almost as much as I had denied
him. I was just basking in my ability to control urges and pace myself.
My little boy was still many years away from developing those skills.
And I found sick pleasure in seeing him get overwhelmed by all the
feelings I brought his young body. And in being there to rescue him when
he's about to drown in all those emotions, taking him from one state to
its polar opposite in a matter of minutes. I wanted every encounter of
ours to be an emotional roller coaster for him.

I continued loving on his little feet, sucking on those plush, tender
toes, leaving him no choice but to tough it out while waiting for the
good stuff. After a few minutes of this, he was practically thrashing
and desperately trying to fuck thin air, trying absolutely anything in
the hopes of getting release.

His forehead was starting to glisten and his face was red from the
exertion when I finally decided to move on. I leaned in and kissed him
heartily, allowing him to let some of his frustrations out on my tongue.
Pulling away, I made eye contact and started taking deep breaths. He
understood what I was doing and did the same, until I managed to get him
to calm down a bit.

"Good job, honey. You've been such a patient, brave boy. I'm proud of
you, baby."

It was hard for him to resent me for anything when I showered him with
such praise.

I planted little kisses all over his delicate face. His lips. The tip of
his nose. The bare gap between his sparse eyebrows. His forehead. Then I
zeroed in high on his left cheek. Right where Mommy kisses him. It was a
reminder. A reminder that even when he's about to get a good long-
dicking, he's still just a little boy. That kiss on the cheek was meant
to make that clear. Whether you're coming home to your mother after
school, or lying here on my bed. You don't magically turn into my fellow
adult because you're about to get fucked. Something very grown-up is
about to happen to you, but you are still a little boy.

I gave him a meaninful look and I think he understood. "Next time you
get a kiss, you'll have a buttfull of dick. Hmm? I'm gonna slide my cock
way up into you and you're gonna take it all, okay? Take it like a big
boy. Right?" He looked at me blankly. He may have found that last part a
little offensive. Nevertheless. "Dennie, can you do that for me?" I
prompted with gentle pats to the side of his rump.

Never breaking eye contact, he answered "yes, Uncle A." He knows better
than to give me the silent treatment. I caressed my way down his arms
until I got to his hands, which were resting on his tummy. I gently
laced my fingers with his before  pulling them up to pin them over his
head. Aiden's breathing is shallower now, as he anticipates my next
move. The reality of being at the mercy of my desires is not lost on
him. The boy's perfected the art of submission, truly embracing his
passive role.

Spurred on by the throb in my groin, I locked lips with my boy to seal
the deal. Barely pulling away from him, I grunted, "roll over. No
humping."

Like the good boy he is, Aiden did just that. I let go of his hands and
he gripped the edge of the matress where I had just pinned them.
Twisting his body to get settled on his tummy, the delicious features of
his back came into view, daring me to dive right in. Firm, yet fleshy.
Defined, but with lines just slightly mellowed by baby fat. I couldn't
see much further than the base of his spine, and the dimples on either
side of it, but just the thought of what waited for me beyond that point
almost made me lose it. I focused instead on his neck. His gorgeous,
smooth, neck, begging to be sucked dry. Feeling the desperate urge to
move on, I nibbled my way down his neck, following the natural trench of
his spine, causing him to abruptly switch from cooing to shuddering. I
deviated towards the left and hovered over his waist. Early on, Aiden
once told me he wished I could give him hickies, because he liked the
idea of being marked as mine. A hickie on his neck would be pretty
obvious so I picked a spot on his left side, right below the waistline,
and suckled that bit of flesh raw every time I had him to myself. I've
been doing this ever since.

Eventually, I let Dennie's center of gravity pull me back, redirecting
my probing to the incline in his upper crack. You know what I'm talking
about. Ticklish Central Station. Every time I touch the tip of my tongue
to that dip in his valley elicits the most startled yelp from him.
There's no getting used to that kind of sudden jolt, even if it's part
of the routine. Especially when he knows what comes next.

I settled in and took a moment to admire the masterpiece at my
fingertips. A boyish behind like you've never seen. If my little Dennie
had caught up with his classmates and gone through puberty, the little
bottom that I knew and loved beyond any form of expression- let alone
words- may not look nearly as mouthwatering as it does now. I leaned in
and lightly kissed his left cheek. He moaned. This time, because he knew
to expect it. Oh, how he knew. And the mere thought of my next move was
more anticipation than he could handle. So he moaned. Mewled, actually.
And I kissed his right cheek.

Those mounds have held onto their baby fat, making them nice and
pillowy. They're perfectly rounded in a way that they slightly mash
together right over his wrinkle, keeping it out of sight in this
position,  but curve away just underneath, exposing a wide, smooth,
triangular taint. Like a doormat that says "Welcome". My way in.
Finally, I pressed the tip of my nose into that taut stretch of skin and
nuzzled my way upwards, pushing between his cheeks, my tongue eagerly
coming out to drag along behind, digging into a cleft that did
absolutely nothing to calm my hyperaware senses of smell and taste.

I could write you an essay about the sounds he made. And a novella about
what my nose and tastebuds registered, and I was still just literally
scratching the surface. I usually prefer to start eating him out in this
position. On his tummy, his fanny completely relaxed, there are layers
of flesh to appreciate. I adored the challenge of having to dig through
the pillowy swell of his cheeks before getting to his rosebud. This
position provided little access to his depth, but the texture of that
area was magnificent. Relaxed. Yielding. It was all there for me to
enjoy, but I had to actually work my way there. I rejoiced in every
second, every sniff, every square millimeter, every swipe, and I knew
that very soon I would be plunging my tongue into his furnace. But for
now, I focused on the surface before stretching my way further in. First
savour, then devour.

"Uhhhhh, Uncle A! Nngh, so good!"

I wormed my way in there, gently dragging my tongue up and down his
crease. lapping at his backdoor. I went easy, making sure not to let any
sensation go unregistered. There was a very subtle, earthy tang brewing
in his valley, and a distinct aroma of nutmeg. Pubescent boycracks are
to be commended for restoring their fine fragrances so quickly after
they've been scrubbed clean. It must've been no more than 3 hours since
he'd showered. Yet already, his cleft was working hard to dish out some
exquisite flavour combinations. I realized that most of what I was
tasting was lust. Dennie must have been simmering in his anticipation
for a while now. His bottom must have been stewing inside his tighty-
whities as he squirmed in the seat of his mother's Volvo on his way
here, thinking of what I would shortly be doing to him. I was tasting my
boy's desire for me, and with that thought, I upped the ante, grabbing
two handfuls of buttcheek, and I closed my lips around his steaming
button.  Not kissing, not licking. I was full-on making out with his
anus. And his anus almost reciprocated as Dennie clenched and
unclenched, thrust into the matress and pushed back against me, moaned
and panted.

I had promised I would eat his pussy out good and I did just that. I let
my tongue explore the wrinkles of his opening, the ones that would soon
disappear as I stretched him out with tongue, fingers, and cock.

With Dennie so riled up, it took a while of my tongue dancing with his
star to loosen him up. The feeling of finally making contact with the
sizzling humidity of his rectum was sublime.

"Mmmmmhh Uncle A! Mm-more! Pleeease!"

I formed a vacuum with my lips around his increasingly gaping hole,
probed, and sucked in as I pulled my tongue out. His reaction was off
the chart. In and out, I would thrust my tongue as deep as it would go
and suck it out, pulling with me as much flesh as I can. The intense
suction made Dennie go wild and I soon realized that he was full-on
fucking my bed, amidst his senseless babble and hopeless attempts at
speech. I stopped, not wanting him to cum just yet.

I rolled him over onto his back, noticing the sheen of sweat on his
forehead and his glazed-over look. Hooking my hands under his knees, I
pushed them up to his armpits, causing his bottom to lift up from the
bed, angled up right at my face. So inviting. I dove straight back in,
licking fiercely from his tailbone, up his crack, all the way to the tip
of his hard pecker, a few times. His most private, most treasured parts
were now splayed wide open, exposed to the room.

When I probed my tongue back into him, I reached warmer, moister, more
sensitive depths. With each thrust of my tongue, Dennie sang his
appreciation. The room was a cacophony of his cries, my grunts and
slurps, accompanied by the scent of sweaty boy pheromones and butt
juices mingled with my abundant saliva. The smell of ultimate man-boy
sex. The mild scent and flavour of his crack were now overpowered by the
richer, headier essence of his insides. Like mushrooms, coated in their
dark, damp, soil. But there was also a hint of sweetness. Like licking
the chocolate that melted onto your fingertips. I was now grunting and
moaning as well into his cavity, completely high on boyfumes, vocalizing
vibrations through his core that made him shudder. We were both close to
losing it, however, only one of us was going to cum before I fucked him
tonight.

Trying to print as much of his tasty tush as I could onto my tongue with
a few final laps, I bid his magic spot goodbye (for now) with a sloppy
kiss, then got up on my knees. I pulled my little maniac under the arms
and up so he was sitting on his feet, frantically undoing my pants and
fishing out my raging hard-on which throbbed in his face. There was no
time for niceties so I grabbed him by the back of his head and guided
him to take my cock into his little expert mouth. Still half in a daze,
Dennie opened up hungrily and in a valiant and ambitious effort,
attempted to take my entire length into his mouth. He gagged and tried
to pull back but I held him there to get him used to it. There was no
time to ease into it. I needed to cream down his throat, pronto.

"Nnngh. Good boy, Dennie. There you go. Such a good boy for your Uncle
A."

He coughed a bit and his eyes brimmed with tears. His breathing was
laboured, what with his cheeks puffed out and lips stretched around my
shaft and a mushroom-plug parked against his tonsils.

"Easy does it, baby. Good job, sweetie. Look up at me when you suck my
cock, Dennie."

He looked up briefly but was soon caught up in trying to accommodate my
girth in his mouth.

"No, Dennie. Keep looking at me." He made eye contact and his tongue
came to as well, now licking the underside of my shaft. "That's it. Get
ready to swallow a big load, sweetie. Uncle A's gonna feed you his load
and you're gonna swallow it all. It'll help you grow. You want that,
right? You want to be a big boy. Don't you?" He nodded as well as anyone
could while swallowing a cock the size of their face. He pulled back
slowly and started bobbing his head up and down. I was so damn close to
gushing into his little trap. After a few slow bobs I took over, fucking
his mouth, both hands now cradling his small face, and it only took a
few thrusts to get me there. The grip of his throat, the suction from
his lips, the moist teasing massage of his tongue, brought about an
intense crescendo until my pulsing cock reached its limit and I tilted
my head back in ecstasy.

"Ohhhh, yeah! Good boy! OHHHH, YEAH. HERE IT COMES, BABY. UUUHHHH.
NNNNGGGHHHHH."

I filled his sweet little mouth with jet after jet of my boiling hot
semen. Waves of pleasure rippled through my body as all my blood flowed
to my cock to facilitate this ridiculously intense ejaculation. My poor
little cocksucker did his best to swallow it all as it came at him. I
could hear his throat, overwhelmed by the assault of my load, working at
full capacity, trying to swallow the bulk of it, resuling in some gags
and coughs. When I looked back down Dennie had cum leaking out the
corners of his mouth as well as his nostrils. And he was still looking
up at me obediently. Just like I told him. I pulled out of his mouth and
he tried to catch his breath. We were both panting when I pulled him up
and wrapped my arms around him.

"Good job, Dennie. So good, baby. You took that like a big boy. So proud
of you, baby."

I could hear him swallowing, licking his puffy, red lips, and swallowing
again as my warm load slid down into his tummy.

He cooed against my heaving chest as I held him in a state of post-
climactic bliss. I kissed the top of his head. Over and over again.
Dennie took immense pride in making me feel good. In pleasing. In doing
a good job for his Uncle A. He drained my balls good and soon I would be
ready to rock his entire life upside-down, and take all the time in the
world doing it.

"So proud of you, baby. Rest up now, because as soon as I'm ready for
another round..."

My hand crept down his back to cup his bottom, the length of my index
finger dipping into his crack. He had no idea just what he had coming.
And he couldn't wait for it. My little Dennie was about to get the
encore in his little rump.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

End of Part 1

Thank you for making it through Part 1 of my first story! Again, any
kind of thoughtful feedback is welcome.

Kit Rudo
kitrudo@tutamail.com