Date: Mon, 1 Aug 2016 05:58:16 +0100 (BST)
From: z.blake@tutanota.com
Subject: Quickerjacks 3

QUICKERJACKS 3
By Zachyboy
M/b, oral, anal

Your mission, should you choose to accept it: try to get your nut in 1,500
words or less. There's something to be said for brevity. Remember being
time-limited back in the day? Behind that locked bathroom door in the home
you grew up in?

"Sweetie? Are you in there? Hurry up! You're going to be late for school!"

"Cumming Mom!" Fappity-fappity, with your squeaky voice all croaking and
breathless. Your mini-dick in your hand, ready to detonate. "Cumming!!
Cumming!!! AHHHHHHHHHH!! NNNGGGH!!!"

Pow. Right in the sink. Tomorrow in the toilet bowl. We had real elegance
back then, swear to God. You just couldn't see it after we flushed it down.

Oh well.

The following stories are utter works of fiction. It goes without saying,
don't read them if you legally or chronologically shouldn't. And the Nifty
Archive Alliance still has bills to pay, so be a sport and kick in a
twenty.

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

On with the show.

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5. DO WHAT THE DOG DOES

I had a naked cuddlebug in bed with me last night. He was like a heat
seeking missile. And he was trying to get me do to things no reasonable man
should ever do with a 9-year-old boy.

It all started because he'd seen his older sister in her bed with the
family dog. And this isn't one of "those" kind of stories, so don't get
your hopes up.

This is just the quickest of mentions, completely in passing, that Emily,
11, was apparently naked on her bed, spread eagled and masturbating
herself, while the family dog Buckingham, a Jack Russell terrier, licked
her vagina.

"She was letting it lick her fanny and everything!" Marcus squealed at me,
blushing and giggling, all wide-eyed and disbelieving. "She didn't even see
me in the door frame, so I stood there and I watched her until she got all
shaky and her voice came out in peeps. EEEK! EEEK! Like a squeaky bird! MY
WILLY GOT LONG!"

I didn't know what to say to him. He was so pretty that day. So flushed. So
excited to tell me.

"Why would she do that, Zee?" he asked me. His arms were flailing like he'd
damn-near gone autistic.  "Why would she let Buckingham lick on her fanny?"

"Honestly, Marcus. It's not for me to say. That's really something you
should talk to your sister about. Or your mum and your dad. Or, I don't
know. No one at all. Or ANY one but me. I'm just a house guest!"

"Aw, you're not a house guest, Zee," he smiled. "You're just my Zee! You've
changed my diapers, mate. Back when I was little! You've seen my willy,
Zee! I've slept in your bed and you snore like a donkey and we even did a
piss together!"

"We did," I admitted. "A really good long one."

In Hampstead Heath. Behind some trees. Our first one in a long
time. Crossing streams. Marcus giggling. Me trying not to weep at the site
of his beautifully-intact, perfect little boy cock. The kind I loved
playing with in school when I was his age. With other blissfully intact
English boys of similar beauty.

"Don't be a git, Zee!" he squealed in joy. "We did a long piss together!! I
reckon we can talk about fannies!"

He had me there.

"Well," I said uncomfortably, searching for the right words – hopefully
words that wouldn't get me in trouble when this got back to Steven and
Mads, which it inevitably would, since Marcus blabbed about everything. "It
just feels real good to get licked down there, buddy."

"Ewww!" he giggled. "By a dog?"

"By anything," I shrugged, which is the God's honest truth.

He seemed to stop and consider this for a moment.

"You ever lick one?" he asked me. "You know. Back before you turned poof?"

"Nope," I said honestly. "Never had the hankering."

He giggled. "Hankering," he repeated, puffed up like a cowboy,
heartachingly adorable and trying the word out.

"So, what do poofs lick then?" he asked. The obvious follow-up.

He stared with a smirk. Demanding or gotcha. I couldn't tell which.

"Well," I told him. "Whatever is handy. Whatever we run into down there, I
guess."

I really wished he'd stop before I wet myself any further with my pre-cum.

He howled with delight! "Whatever you run into!" he repeated with glee!
"Oh, that's brilliant!" he cried. "And terrible! And awful!"

I laughed along with him in spite of myself. "Well, yes," I nodded at his
sparkling joy-eyes. "I suppose it is awful sometimes. Depends on your
date."

That part was lost on him. He quickly moved on.

"I bet you lick willies, right Zee? And bottoms?"

The realization suddenly dawned on him like sunrise over the Channel.

"ACK!!!" he screamed gleefully. "I BET YOU LICK BUMS, DON"T YOU??!!"

He flailed his hands around and jumped around my room like he'd just seen a
picture of his mother with her tits out.

"Well, really Marcus..." I searched for decorum in the room and found
absolutely none to help me.

"Tell me I'm not right!" he squealed. "OH LORD CHRIST AND THE BLESSED
VIRGIN!! OH, HOLY MARY, MOTHER OF SHIT!! ZEE LICKS BUMS!"

"Marcus! Shush! Keep your voice down. The neighbors will hear. YES, I lick
bums!'

"I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT!"

"Shhhh! Quiet!"

"What part of the bum gets licked?" he wanted to know. "Eww, eww, eww,
eww!!!!"

"The whole thing I guess. The cheeks. The crack."

"EWWWWWW!" he shouted, laughing and jumping and flailing his hands like he
was putting a fire out. "THE CRACK! ZEE LICKS THE CRACK!"

"Honestly, Marcus."

"And the bumhole, Zee!! Do you even lick the BUMHOLE?" He said this last
one with a hushed whisper, like he couldn't even dream it.

"Yes," I said simply. "But it's clean, Marcus. People bathe. And shower."

"Ewww!!!" he cried. "OH EWWWWW! That's HORRIBLE!"

He ran out of my room laughing and flailing. Hysterically pondering the
ridiculous comedy of gay analingis.

But that night when he climbed into bed with me, something he'd done with
increasing regularity on this last sabbatical of mine from my teaching in
the states, he was bare naked for the first time ever.

The cuddling in my bed was nothing new. As I stayed here in Sussex with my
old friends from a lifetime ago in London, the fact that their son liked to
climb into bed with me at night was something they found charming and
adorable, not nefarious or full of man danger, which truth be told, it
probably was. But not to them. They trusted me implicitly. I was, after
all, simply their Zee.

He climbed into bed with me that night, 9-years-old and ready to learn, and
piping hot with body heat, and naked as the day he was born.

And that's how it started. And it turns out, blabber mouth and all, he
never told a soul.

"Marcus?" I whispered.

"Yes, Zee?" he answered.

"Are you naked right now?"

He giggled and cuddled and pushed his stiffy into my leg.

"Yes, Zee," he giggled. "I took off my jams."

"Oh boy." I said quietly, already erecting.

"I've come to learn poof stuff," he said with a cuddle. His voice was so
high I could actually see it. Treble and tenor danced in the room, swirling
and chasing each other like white moths and butterflies.

"I took off my jams so we can see each other's willies properly," he
announced, and simply pulled back the covers and put his hand on mine.

I reached up and put my thumb and forefinger on his too. Erect and
throbbing. Intact and perfect.

"Wow," he whispered in admiration. "Yours is long already, Zee." Long, he
said. Not hard, but long.

"Yours is long too, Marcus. It feels really good."

I removed my underwear, resigned to his playfulness. Resigned and eager.

In for a penny, in for a pound. Or a Euro (or not). Or whatever they wind
up with.

I had a naked cuddlebug in bed with me last night and he was like a heat
seeking missile.

He was curious and giggly, and before we watched the sun come up, we'd
already done things no reasonable man should ever do with a 9-year-old boy.

"But before you teach me poof things, Zee..." he'd said as we started.

"Yes, Marcus? Before I teach you poof things...?"

He flipped himself over, laid on my bed, tummy down and pulled his shiny
peachy cheeks apart. Creamy smooth like English butter. Sweet and dainty
clotted cream. His rosebud glistened pink and shiny from the blue-yellow
moon shining in through in the window.

"Lick on my bottom," he said with a giggle.

I lowered my face into boyish perfection, and soon began the nicest
sabbatical I've ever remembered.

"That's it," he cooed with a satisfied sigh. "Lick my bumhole, Zee. Ahhhh,
that's it."

"Like this?" I asked him with my tongue full of flavors.

"Like that," he giggled. "Do what the dog does."

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6. ALTERNATIVES FOR "DO"

Scoob and I were discussing sex synonyms for the word "do."

I was talking to him about him "doing" one of his favorite fantasy boys,
"do" being the polite word for "fuck" in that context, and I said something
along the lines of "after you "did" him you could take him out for a
milkshake," or some utterly ridiculous pervy nonsense, par for my course.

But Scoob came back and pointed out the verb choice "do" instead of the
plot line "milkshake." Fucker.

"After I DID him?" he said. "Whoof! Do you mind if I say that over and over
and over again? Let's remember to use some form of "do" from time to
time. I want to "do" him. I "did" him. Oh God. Absolutely magnificent."

And that got me thinking. And googling.

There are actually some delicious synonyms for "did" and "do" on
synonym.com that get totally overlooked as go-to's for describing boy
coitus in Nifty. Rare and delicious, smoking hot alternatives, all
virtually-unknown like "churn out" or "pipe up."

"After I piped him," for example.

"I piped him full of six-inches and I listened to his squirmy-yowls."

"After I churned him," is another good option.

"I churned his boy tunnel and he nearly took a layer of flesh off my arms,
his fingernails dug so deep."

All spectacular replacements.

Or how about "render" as an alternative to "do?"

"I rendered him speechless with my full insertion. I rendered him mute, as
a matter of fact."

Or how about this one. "Give full measure." Whoof. Isn't that delicious?

"A.J.'s anus looked a little neglected, so I lined up my mushroom, punched
through his laughable double vault guards (two comically-ineffective
sphincters like bumbling Barney Fifes, squawking and sputtering, trying to
keep me from robbing the Mayberry First National), and I gave him full
measure."

Jesus, what a spectacularly fun list of alternatives. Why have I never
looked up synonyms for "do" before? These are pure gold, Jerry.

Synonym for "do:" "pioneer."

To "do" something for the first time is to "pioneer" something.

"I may not have been there to see A.J. take his first baby steps, but I was
damn sure going to pioneer his pussy."

Glorious.

Note to Self: Look up synonyms for "do" more often when writing about
"doing" a boy.

Teeeee-riffic! Thanks, Scoob!

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7. NOT YOUR BABY

"I'm not your baby, Scott. I'm 12 years old now. I wish you wouldn't call
me that."

"Oh, baby, come here," I apologized.

He hit my arm and pouted. His lower lip was so pretty and trembly, I wanted
to suck it and make it my bride. I wanted to marry that lower lip.

"It's just that you're so pretty, I explained. "When I kiss your little
eyelids, I want to make you my baby..."

He pouted. "Not your baby," he mumbled, looking away from me.

"When I kiss your little nose and bite on your ears, I want to make you my
baby..."

"Not your baby," he repeated, sticking out his lip more.

"When I kiss your neck and lick your chest and suck on your nippy's and
make you get your goosebumps, I want to make you my baby..."

"Yeah?" he said quietly, looking up at me with wet eyes.

"When I nibble on your lip..."

I nipped at it playfully. He giggled.

"When I kiss you and run my tongue up your cheek..."

I did, and he shivered. Wrapped his arms around my neck.

"When I breathe in your ear, and my breath is all hot, and my hand goes
down in front of your pants..."

I did. I felt his hardness. He gasped. He shuddered.

"And when I suck on your Adam's apple, and I put my hand down the back of
your pants this time. And my finger goes in your crack. And I touch you
right here...and I push...and I push..."

"Oh! Ohhh!"

"When I finger you here...all sweet and hot and ready for my wiener..."

"Yesssss," he whimpered urgently. "Oh yes, Scott. Put your finger in."

I took my finger out and I sucked it wet and I put it back, kissing him the
whole time.

"When I put my wiener in here..."

"Ngggh..." he grunted. He pushed out. He arched for me, receptive.

"When I push it way up here and I wiggle it inside you..."

"Deeper," he whimpered. "Push it in deeper." His voice was a whisper, a
whimper, a cry.

I kissed his neck and I tasted his heartbeat.

"When I put my wiener inside you and I fuck you so slow and I fuck you so
pretty, and I push it inside you and I make it squirt sperm in you..."

"Oh yes," he peeped. "Oh please, Scott, yes..."

"When I put it inside you, I make you my baby."

He twisted on my finger. Forehead sweating. Panting and hungry.

"Daddy," he whispered, reaching for my penis. Little hand shaking, breath
coming in rapid-gasps.

Grabbing my hardness. Needing my erection.

"Put it inside me. Make me your baby."

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