Date: Thu, 19 Feb 2004 17:34:59 -0600
From: gloryhole JUNKIE <gloryhole_junkie@hotmail.com>
Subject: "Whoring With Dad" Part 9d

Whoring With Dad
Part 9c: "In (Kevy) Like a Choo Choo..."
(or "Little Boys Love Trains")

By: Mr.gloryholeJUNKIE
gloryhole_junkie@hotmail.com


Disclaimer & Warning (after all, what's a racy story without 'em)

Okay, so you've either stayed current with or, after a night of furiously
masturbating into the wee hours while sexually hopped up on a bottomless
cuppa'Joe in an effort to bask fully in your darkest depravity, finally all
caught up with your "Whoring With Dad" reading.

Now, considering the fact that you've read 50-"zillion" words (er, as some
of you might say) related to "bad dad" behaviors and other illicit "actions"
which certain men "do", the reader really ought to be well versed on all
things that a man ought not be doing when in the presence of a minor.  The
author, therefore, expects that you gents are doing your best to keep your
man rods (whether they be four inchers or footlong monsters) in your
trousers while cruising the restroom at your local Cineplex that's playing
kids movies all day (and no, telling little boys at the urinals that they'll
find Nemo...by unzipping your pants... is never a good idea).

And hopefully, you dads out there, upon hearing that your wife plans to
spend the night at her sick mother's...thus leaving you all alone for
48-hours with your cute-as-a-dick-ins "lap squirmer" (how will dad get
through the evening? Oh my!) will recall these "Disclaimers & Warnings" and
decide to go with "Plan B" (beat offing alone in the garage) rather than
going with "Plan A" (inviting a whole bunch of men from a seedy adult
bookstore over to use the kid's room like it were some XXX backroom).

Also, as stated in other "Disclaimers & Warnings", they are but that -
"disclaimers" and "warnings". The author is not a sexual-Zvengali and hence
cannot make your penis do anything it wouldn't do on its own (or, more
accurately, without "Whoring With Dad"). Face it, you were spilling your
seed to such thoughts long before this tale came down the pike ('thought I
was gunna say "tyke", didn't ya?).

After all, reading a story should not make a well endowed father of four
"all of a sudden" decide to unzip his Dockers and go from bedroom to bedroom
ordering each of his grade-school aged sons to blow him. If he were so
inclined to such "Come on boys, lights off...time to suck daddy's big meat
again tonight" behavior, well, let's be real - he'd hardly have the time to
be reading this tale.

Whether they like it or not, once men reach the age of eighteen, the are
required to discontinue their nasty fiddling about with the little ones.
Heck, there are even many fourteen-year-old horndogs, their baby-smooth
bubblebutts sitting in juvey hall right now for the hardcore stuff they got
little kids to do while in the tall grass or while babysitting them. And a
stint in juvey is just a slap on the hefty nuts of those older teenagers who
showed their big dicks and cum to easily awestruck little brothers or other
little kids while working as a "teen counselor" at some Bible school summer
camp.

So, one can imagine how important it is, therefore, that a male, upon
reaching the age of majority, must under all circumstances, keep his dick in
his pants (oh, don't worry, we cut you big fellas a pass since we know a man
can't "help" but display a huge tent when wearing just sweats).

It's a pretty simple, straightforward "rule" if you will: The day you blow
out eighteen candles...quit blowing anyone under the age of eighteen.

Also, men are reminded to leave the digital camera in the closet or luggage
when it comes time to give your son a bath or when it's "naked little
Indians" hour at the scout camp where you and three other like-minded men
are in charge.

Instead, stick to exploring your most salacious self by doing exactly what
you (along with thousands and thousands of other men) are doing right at
this moment - rubbing your man meat through your slacks or underwear as you
prepare to read yet another chapter of "Whoring With Dad".

And although it is the true story of the author's own childhood as a whore
for hundreds of men, the aroused reader is asked not to get overly
"frustrated" or "miffed" that he cannot partake in the sorts of actions
which are described. Even "back then", although rarely discovered, these men
would have been considered to be a pack of salacious, ejaculating perverts.
Lest we forget, these hardcore perversions occurred long before the Internet
or broad social awareness of what men really do when locked in a stall with
a little boy at the mall.

Or think of it this way: Sure, you may want to participate in a
beheading...but this ain't 18th century France no more!

Other standard "Disclaimer & Warning" issues also apply here:

Be of legal age in your area prior to masturbating to this tale.

Do not have sex or participate in "sexual conduct" with minors.

Be in a locale where it is legal to read such sexually explicit material.

Do not re-print, distribute, copy, or use "Whoring With Dad" in any way
other than its intended purpose (a man's personal cum-letting) without the
author's written prior consent.

Remember: Should "Disclaimers & Warnings" or "Prefaces" not be your thing,
one may always scroll down.




Preface: "METHod to God?"


You'd think the "Preface" attached to the last installment of "Whoring With
Dad" would have sufficed for the next ten chapters...but you'd be wrong. Ha!

Some have asked and I will admit that I was most tempted to add footnotes to
the last chapter's "Preface". But figuring such structure may impede
masturbation (since many readers still seem to be figuring out scrolling) it
was decided to omit such formal notations.

But as many readers expressed interested in the permissions given a man to
do almost whatever he like to a lil'one by the Talmud, I will say that those
guidelines are from the text itself. Interestingly, as there are two
versions of the Talmud, I can understand that some confusion is
understandable and in fact, may be in order.

The Babylonian branch or version of the Talmud clearly states:

"Sanhedrin 54b: "If a man commits sodomy with a boy less than nine years
old, they are not guilty of sodomy."

Sanhedrin 55b: "It is permitted to have sexual intercourse with a girl three
years and one day old" See also Yebamoth 12a, 57b, 60b; Abodath Zarah 37a;
and Kethuboth 39a.

Sanhedrin 59b: "Sexual intercourse with a boy less that eight years old is
not fornication."

Kethuboth 11b: "Sexual intercourse with a girl less than three is nothing."

The "Sanhedrin" were the council of state and supreme tribunal of the Jewish
people during the century or more preceding the fall of the Second Temple.
It consisted of seventy-one members, and was presided over by the High
Priest.

Penalties and "sins" accorded to a "male copulating with another male" does
not, as contemporary thought would have it, include or carry over to imply a
"male copulating with a boy". A male was described as "an adult male" or
"man". Simply put, it was a patriarchal society to the extreme and any
reference to "male" referred to what was, at the time, deemed a "man".
Although today this would be considered the age of thirteen when a boy
reaches "manhood" with his God (which not so coincidentally coincides with
many young men's ability to first squirt sperm), in accordance with the
Talmud, this age was nine and one day. It was at that age, nine and one day,
when a boy became a man (or therefore, a "male" as described in teachings)
predicated on the sense that he had a different "awareness" by that age.

A "male laying with another male" is not intended to simply mean a man's
sodomy of any person with a penis, but, more correctly, of any male capable
of ejaculating seed or one deemed a "man" in the eyes of God.

In fact, children were deemed so subservient as to barely be regarded as
much more than possessions of their father. Therefore, orally or anally
sodomizing another male would have been considered egregious, whereas if a
"male" or man committed the same sodomy with a child (boy) of lesser age, no
guilt is incurred. Using this "scale of sin" for sex between a man and a
boy, often the age of three was described to be the minimum and nine (but
not a day beyond) was the maximum.  Hmm, makes you think of how
gangbang-crazy the village men must have gotten when attending some local
kid's ninth birthday party!

In fact, the Talmud clearly delineates the levels of "sin" or wrongdoing
when a "male" (a man) sexually copulates with women, other "males", beasts,
little girls and/or boys (who are clearly specified as "boys" and not as
"males").

It is taught that sex with a child below nine years of age is not deemed the
same as sex with a child above that age. In fact, according to most
Babylonian Talmudic teaching, the sinfulness of a male's (man's) sodomy of a
child is considerably lessened as the boy's age decreases. Yet, sex with a
boy aged nine and one day is considered on par with bestiality. And sex with
a boy (not a girl though) below three years of age is so negligible in its
sinfulness that its not even treated or regarded as the same as with a boy
above that age (but less than nine years and one day).

All these intricate guidelines go to prove that there were simply a slew of
men screwing toddler and little kid butt back then. In a sense, the
teachings were telling men and fathers that it was best to screw only one's
own wife but should that not be possible, rather than to screw the wife of
another male or get head from another man (whether he be such in the eyes of
God or actually capable of producing semen) or riding a sheep in the field
to climax, all of which would be sinful, it was better and therefore
acceptable for a "male" or "man" to screw tykes under the age of nine (and
that all-important one day).

Why would such "laws" be in favor of such sexual behavior between men and
any little tyke running around? Perhaps its because 3rd century B.C.
religious leaders (men all) understood a man's loins better than we do
today. But, more realistically, its because people had always been pragmatic
throughout the ages and in an agricultural/shepherding world, the likelihood
of a man's heated loins reaching out to anything other than that of a woman
was greatly increased. Fathers in a remote field would find their eyes
gazing upon their toddler sons' smooth tushies as they taught them to gather
sheep. Older brothers would know it sinful to copulate with any female not
yet their bride and instead use their littlest brother as a surrogate for
their spermloads. Men over thirty, many of them likely to be widowed due to
high rates of women dying in childbirth, would have no choice but to crawl
into the bed of their young son or grandson.

Even in an intact household, where mother was healthy, she'd be menstruating
or pregnant or recovering from a pregnancy or a miscarriage most of the days
of her reproductive life, thereby leaving dad's erections looking for
someplace to shoot its load. According to their understanding, it was
nothing to use the little guy as a cumhole and was far less sinful than to
lust for the wife of another "male".

And in all that, as men would bring these issues forward, Talmudic teachers
and elders knew they had to cut them a break or surely most men would have
been considered "damned" for partaking in these all-too-common behaviors.

This same model of living continues today where many a Mexican father turn
to their kids little mouths, vaginas or butts when mama's not able to
accommodate him. Many think nothing more of it than what it is - a family
making certain that papi is content and does not get angry or stray into the
bed of another woman. Many mothers are happy to see their husband in the
next bed over screwing their youngest son rather than risk losing him during
a time of miscarriage or menstruation.

In a sense, some of this same philosophy even carries over to the Catholic
Church where many in charge, enjoying the idea of priests ejaculating down
the throats of young boys, actually adopted some of the "value system" or
variable morality of the Talmud. To many priests, bishops and cardinals, the
use of a little boy, (although already their preference), was also somehow
better or "less sinful" than to penetrate young girls or women.

Perhaps it was merely justification and allowance for men of the Church to
enjoy their perverse ways, but also technically and intellectually, there
was a sense that screwing a little boy was intrinsically not the same as
"vaginal penetration" or "male with female copulation". Such vaginal
intercourse was reserved for marriage, a Sacrament, while getting little
boys to diddle inside a man's zipper was merely considered "naughty fun".
Consider the difference in reaction which existed for decades among society
upon hearing of a priest jamming his thick adult man cock up inside an
eight-year-old parish girl's pussy as opposed to another priest jamming his
thick adult man cock up inside an eight-year-old parish boy's butt. Although
the latter was frowned upon, it elicited little real reaction other than,
perhaps, "Well, priests are men, I suppose, and they get lonely...and that's
what altar boys must have done for them for centuries". But the perception
of the former example would have been outrageous. A priest who is pedo
fucking a little girl? Burn him!" It's only in very recent years where this
perception has balanced itself in any meaningful way.

And it is also why, until recent years, it was not considered as big a deal
(as it is today) if some man were "molesting" little boys especially when
compared to that same man molesting little girls. Sure, there existed a
double standard. But that chasm is as old as biblical text! Why was it that
a man was fired for merely looking at his female third-grade student in "a
questionable way" and yet, despite scores of whispers, numerous scoutmasters
continued to lead full-blown man-boy orgies for decades and decades without
anything happening to them?

The reason was simple: society, no matter what they argued, innately felt
these were both somehow a man's "right", as well as, a right of passage for
young men and boys. In that way, the core of the double-standard was based
in the Talmud -- that, in effect, although not perfect, it was better to do
such things with and to little boys than to have the men screwing daughters
or allowing the boys of fertile age ("men") from impregnating females.

Is such a real or perceived scale of sexual sin right? Is it wrong? Those
are conclusions to be decided by others. The mere fact that the scale exists
is more edifying than the scale itself. There are some that would consider
it an appropriate and realistic answer to the needs and desires of human,
and specifically, male sexuality. Others would say it's the instinctive male
sense of situational morality. And yet others would call it a pervert's
Guide to Living.

But unless one is the most orthodox of religious zealots, let's face it, one
could quote the Talmud till the kid screams, "Owie, mister...your thingy is
really big!", and none of it wouldn't matter. For there are other secular
laws which over ride and govern what a man can and cannot do when alone with
a little boy in a dark room (or subway toilet).

And yet, still there are those randy fellas out there who indulge in such
deeds without ever looking to religious text or man-made law for approval.
Hell, they blow any concern for God's blessing to the wind as they make some
toddler blow them. And they disregard any legal statute the second that
their slacks get all tight and tented... knowing there's some tiny butt so
easy for the taking in the very next room.

Yes, in other arenas of life, on the other end of the spectrum (where, oddly
enough, rough and corrupt men make a full circle right back to the same
depraved sexual acts as those men who come to them via religion) some men
find themselves in a bit of a catch-22 when it comes to the acceptability of
their most lurid sexual antics.

Or when do two wrongs make it, oh, so right?

There was a recent legal case where a group of loosely related persons were
running an extensive meth lab operation. It was one of those rather common
situations in America were a meth-addicted woman in her forties (who
obviously "worked" a few truck plazas in her lifetime - probably wearing
little more than a tube top and heels) had settled down to play house with
"boyfriend number who-knows-what", a well built, redneck drug dealer in his
early fifties. She brought along with her (and into the fray), her two
legal-aged sons, as well as, three more of her children -- each under the
age of seven. All but two of the five she spawned had different fathers (but
of course).

The older sons, half-brothers, one, eighteen and the other, twenty, then
brought into the scenario, respectively, a dumb-as-fuck girlfriend (along
with her three year old son from a previous boyfriend) and a young, na‹ve
meth-addicted wife and another (male) infant.

So let's get this straight. We have a fifty-something meth dealer, his
trucker-whore forty-something "girlfriend", her five kids, ranging in age
from four to twenty (a gal's got to keep those welfare checks rolling in
after all); a clueless girlfriend with her toddler son and a junkie young
wife with a newborn -- all living in a collection of ramshackle trailers on
four desolate acres.

Oy! Now you know why it must be so hard to be the Guest Coordinator on "The
Jerry Springer Show"!

Other than the children, they're all in the meth business in different ways
and all are addicted to the stuff (hey, you make pizza, you eat pizza).
Makes for a wild environment for five little kids all under the age of
seven, doesn't it?

But that's just where things get interesting. As a way "around" having the
kids taken by the state should there be a bust on the meth lab trailer (one
of the three trailers), the kids are all kept in one trailer -- but not,
apparently, for their safekeeping.

It's some technicality in the law that makes it harder for the state to take
kids away from a parent when those kids are not residing at the address in
which some crime or "bust" took place. Not that these kids couldn't be
seized from the offending parent if and when other things are charged or
proven but it makes it simply harder for the state to automatically separate
the parent from child(-ren).

In this case, there was some prior knowledge by the adults (can't imagine
why...oh, yeah, they lived this way all their lives as well!) that if the
cops raided the meth lab trailer (trailer 1a) but, technically, the kids all
lived at a different address (trailer 1b), then it could be argued that the
kids did not live at the former address and therefore no crime took place at
their trailer 1b residence...and therefore, the state could not
automatically remove the kids from that trailer (1b) because they were not
necessarily endangered. Talk about a loophole!

So you ask, "What da fuck's any of this gotta do with any fucking dick
perving seed up a little kid's ass? Let's get back to the perving, man!"

Never fear, perversion is never far away in this world (or this tale). So as
the state was figuring out who ran the meth lab and which of the "adults"
cooked the stuff and which sold the stuff and which used the stuff, and
which of them killed a guy...yet another story unfolded in the courtroom.
And, boy, was it a far more sordid set of events than just the simple meth
lab'n'murder which was before the jury.

Seems that the big kahuna, the fifty-something boyfriend and ringleader was
in cahoots (how does on spell that word?) with the twenty-year-old son of
the forty-something skank of a girlfriend/mother. And the game these two men
ran was way more lurid than getting high school kids cranked on meth.

It came out that these two shared a common interest in seeing little kids
used by huge, sperm-squirting dicks - and lots of them. It was one of those
"secrets" that the drugged up "ladies" sensed and/or witnessed but like the
speed freaks they were, turned a blind eye to for survival (and more meth).

Okay, so the twenty-something father had his jeans at his ankles and was
cumming down his baby's throat one afternoon (the adults' lives were
dedicated to watching cartoons on t.v., eating, boozing and using meth...and
the guys had something extra) when he let the fifty-something guy, a man the
adult sons called a "father-figure" and "step dad", also unzip and squirt
his semen into his baby. Together, for nearly a year, they screwed and shot
seed into every one of the little kids in trailer 1b.

So, let's get it straight. Trailer 1a was where they cooked the meth;
trailer 1b was where they kept the kids (and used 'em for sex); trailer 1c
was where the women lived and the adults could "party" - ironically enough
as to "not disturb the kids".

I'm tellin' ya, speed will crack your mind!

But it didn't end there. As no one but those "cooking" meth were allowed in
trailer 1a, and trailer 1c was were the deals and parties were held as well
as where the ladies slept, those "customers" waiting for a deal (either
scoring some meth or arranging to buy some for re-sale to your kids on
school playgrounds everywhere) had to, um, let's say, "hang out" someplace
else until it was their turn to head to trailer 1c.

That left only trailer 1b available for myriad guys to use as a waiting room
of sorts. And then the fun begins.

Now, although both guys and gals are meth addicts and sellers, as is quite
often the case (and was in this one), females were often eliminated from the
score or deal. If a chick were used to sell the stuff at malls and nail
salons, she'd be given a stash by her boyfriend or husband only after he'd
made the deal. They were otherwise either left at home or sat in the car for
literally hours on end while their boyfriend or husband would be inside a
trailer "doing business". It's a macho world, that meth world!

So, no one other than the "cooks" went to trailer 1a; guys would "party"
(shoot meth) and score meth in trailer 1c; and all others in queue to score
had to "wait" at trailer 1b (the kids' trailer).

And, as you guessed, this set up wasn't by mere coincidence or "an
oversight" on the part of the two really nasty meth pervs running the show.
They both knew that deals and "partying" could go on for hours -- and those
in trailer 1c could virtually "forget" about the long line of other guys
waiting to make a deal. So as some extra "entertainment", or inducement to
stay as they waited to move to trailer 1c to complete their meth deals, the
assorted strange men who'd be using trailer 1b to "chill for a while" were
invited to "play" any sort of games they wanted to with the five kids -
left there alone among the men in nothing but tattered pjs or underwear.

Hmmm, funny how these random and assorted meth addicts, guys ranging in age
from eighteen to forty mostly, all decided that their favorite game was to
turn trailer 1b into a sleazy pedo brothel! Most of them screwing not one
but five little kids full of semen; cell phone calling other ex-con buddies
to come over to get some; getting drunk and high and falling asleep on top
of one or another of the kids - with their hairy dick still lodged up inside
a tiny butthole.

Yes, clearly, life inside trailer 1b was completely unaffected by any
episode of "Mr. Roger's Neighborhood". And it's almost guaranteed that none
of the men consulted the Talmud before unbuckling his belt and heading to
one of the kid's rooms.

One interesting note about many meth addicts - they're pretty humpy,
well-built guys (till they drop dead suddenly, of course). But that would
make sense since meth was developed by the Nazi's for their armies. It made
the men like wild steeds, all pent up energy, voracious and up for anything,
grabbing their crotches at the sight of anything that moved...and totally
unable to sleep for two-weeks straight. In fact, it makes guys wild, rage
with sexual perversion...and totally insane for days at a time. That's why
Hitler - yes, even Hitler -- rejected the use of meth and it was ultimately
never used by the German army.

For the pervs running the meth compound, it was a way of guaranteeing that
their four boys and one girl were used by as many cocks and ingested as much
different semen as possible. They used trailer 1b as a "holding tank" - and
for a little over a year, let guys do anything they wanted to the kids. No
charge, of course, since that wasn't the point. This set up simply made sure
that guys didn't split or get "angry" and storm trailer 1c in the middle of
another deal. After all, one sacred "rule" among meth dealers: Don't
ever...EVER...get into anybody else's deal.

And it gave the dealers an additional leveraging tool. If any guy ever
threatened to expose the meth operation, they could bring up the little fact
that the guy had screwed a toddler. For unbeknownst to any of the men, the
fifty-something dealer and twenty-something dad had hidden cams all over
trailer 1b. Anyone cause them trouble and they could show them videotape of
them tag-teaming a kid along with six other men.

Meth dealers are always thinking (since they can't turn off their mind for
14-days straight), you gotta give them that!

And it wasn't too hard a leap for many of these meth guys, most of whom had
spent time in prison or were doing all sorts of other corrupt stuff on the
outside, to unbutton their Levis and hit one of the small, soiled bedrooms
where the kids were kept to entertain whoever and however many entered.
Perhaps, these men figured it was their compensation for having to wait so
long to do a deal or for a drug deal that they felt a little cheated on.
Most likely, they thought that since the drug compound was so free of rules
or the law, and protected against intruders, the set up was perfect for
indulging in their most perverse desires. "Can't expose what they're doing
without exposing the meth lab" type of logic.

And they knew they'd be safe doing it in such environs. After all, the
compound was designed for exactly what occurred there - from meth cooking to
meth selling to meth using to sleazy mamas drinking Wild Turkey 101 and
eating Fluffernutter out of the jar to coughing up blood to babies playing
with used rubbers and hypodermic needles to a whole bunch of strange men
pulling trains on little kids who never attended school ...to murder.

As it was revealed in court, the fifty-something fella (who was murdered, by
the way) was regularly blowing seed into each of the tots -- as was the
twenty-year old and his eighteen-year-old stepbrother (who claimed in
testimony that he didn't really want to but did so at his "step dad's
request" cuz he was a meth addict).

The state tried to demonstrate the sheer numbers of men who fucked and came
in these kids by using revealing medical records and by taking semen samples
from the kids clothing, bedcovers, towels, rugs, draperies, walls, ceiling
and assorted other items from trailer 1b. The hidden videotapes had
"disappeared" making one really wonder who killed the big perverted kahuna.
Realistically, it could have been one of the skanky mothers while in a brief
state of sobriety...or any one of the dozens of meth-addicted man in a
tri-state area who had spent some time with his heavy belt buckle clunking
on the floor as he screwed baby butt in trailer 1b!

At one count, the state identified semen from four identifiable sources (the
dead guy; the twenty-year-old, his eighteen-year-old step brother and
another meth maniac, a dangerous-looking thirty-something Puerto Rican who
hung out there frequently) along with...get this...another thirty-three
different DNA samples (all collected from semen) they could not "match" to
anyone.

What did all that forensic science mean? That, minimally, at least
thirty-seven different men had ejaculated in front of those kids and more
likely, on and in them. Clearly much of it -- shots of daddymilk too big or
powerful to escape modern forensic detection - remained as trace semen once
it ran out of the kid's butts or mouths and collected on bare mattresses or
the burnt orange shag carpeting.

Only one of the children testified (via video), the eldest boy. When asked
"How many men would come to your house and do things with you?", all the
six-year-old kept answering was, "Just lots and lots. I don't know how to
count."

Having been a seven-year-old in vastly different circumstances, yet also
confronted by innumerable adult penises ejaculating into my mouth and butt,
I could understand the little guy when he said he just didn't know! Most
kids that age - let alone those like that kid who never learned to count --
can barely get beyond "twenty" anyway!

Perhaps it is speed that makes men do such things; "cross such lines".
Perhaps its simply the underworld's Gentlemen's Agreement at work (again)
that allows men to do what they really want to do, and are permitted to do,
due to other circumstances which outweigh anyone's blabbing.  Perhaps its
men taking advantage of any such opportunity as they see it - to perv and
whore out kids to the extreme - because they know they're protected by the
umbrella of other illicit deeds.

Yet, oddly enough, that was not the case years ago at the Lawson Y.M.C.A.
None of the men seemed hopped up on meth back then. So, golly, besides the
Talmud and meth, what is it that leads so many adult men to feel free to
screw a seven-year-old and his "baby brother"?

Let's find out...



Whoring With Dad
Part 9c: "In (Kevy) Like a Choo Choo..."
(or "Little Boys Love Trains")

By: Mr.gloryholeJUNKIE
gloryhole_junkie@hotmail.com



I sat on the bed and watched dad as he pulled items out of the plastic
grocery-type bag and set them on the sink. He was wearing his big white
towel around his waist, but even so, I could see a big lump in the front of
it. I stared at him, my eyes scanning up his hairy abdomen and belly button
to his hairy chest and big biceps.

Dad suddenly looked over at me and winked. "You having fun, Kev? Glad we're
here?", he asked with a smile.

I nodded enthusiastically and said, "This is the coolest place ever!"

Dad laughed a bit as he said, "Well, I had fun padding around this place
looking for some stuff for Tomas."

I stood up and went up to where my dad was standing. As I did, I remembered
I was totally naked, my towel tossed into a corner on the floor by the man
who'd just fucked both me and Tomas.

"You're smart. It's hard to keep these things on, isn't it, champ?", dad
asked glancing down at my naked body. "My towel always feels like it might
slip, too, especially when walking around. Guess that's why so many men here
just don't even bother with them."

I blushed as my dad talked; his eyes looking at my little butt. I was afraid
he might somehow notice I'd been fucked. Silly to think he could tell.

"Here,", dad said as he unloaded a small container of a men's talcum, "It's
not baby powder but the fellow in the towel room gave it to us for Tomas. He
seems like a great fellow down there...understands we're stuck with the
little guy for the night."

"Is that the man who promised to look after him when we go swimming today?",
I asked, hoping to get to the pool as soon as possible.

"Yup, one and the same", dad replied as he pulled out a few bananas and a
tall, narrow plastic drinking cup. "He offered to keep an eye on him
whenever we get down there this morning, as well."

Dad saw my brows knit as I looked upon the strange menagerie of items and
chuckled.

"These here", dad said pointing to the bananas, "We can mash up for Tomas.
Not quite gourmet but it'll sustain him till tomorrow night."

"What's this thing for?". I asked as I examined the drinking cup, shaped
something like the cardboard tube of a roll of toilet paper.

"Well, this is something we have to figure out", dad said hesitantly. "The
fellow in the towel room suggested the idea and it might just work." With
that, dad pulled out a pint container of milk. "He also ran and got this
from the kitchens on the first floor."

I was totally confused as I wondered how Tomas could possibly drink the milk
from that - that was the sort of carton we big kids used in the cafeteria at
school.

Dad dug around some more in the plastic bag and pulled out a few small flat
packets. He then sat on the bed, legs spread wide, holding the tall, narrow
drinking cup and one of the packets as he tried to figure things out.

The guy in the towel room suggested we try this", dad said as he opened the
foil package and pulled out a beige disc.

"What's that?" I asked as I stood close, my long penis sort of brushing
along one of dad's legs.

Now dad blushed a bit as he chuckled. "Well, kiddo, this is what's called a
condom."

"Condom?", I asked. "What's a condom?"

Dad took a deep breath and then unrolled the disc. Without quite knowing
what a condom was, I thought it looked like a big, saggy penis.

"A condom,", dad tried to explain, "Well, a condom...a condom...is what some
men use when they don't want to make a baby."

My eyebrows pinched together in total confusion. "How could that thing stop
a baby?", I asked as I leaned over and felt the limp balloon.

"Well", dad said, "A man has the stuff that can make babies in women, you
know that, right?"

I nodded and said, without thinking, "His daddymilk!"

Dad gave me a strange look and smiled. "Daddymilk? Well, uh, yeah, it could
be called that...but its called semen."

"Semen?", l asked. "Like people going out to sea?"

Dad laughed a bit nervously. "No, no, Kev, not like seamen or
sailors...semen, its spelled differently."

"Oh", I said.

"Anyway, only big boys and men make semen and inside that semen are a lot of
things called sperm."

"Inside it?" I asked totally confused.

"Swimming inside the semen", dad tried his best to explain. "Are a lot of
living things called sperm. And each sperm contains all the stuff a daddy
needs to make a baby inside a mommy."

"They swim?", I asked trying to picture such a thing.

"Yes, they swim around like the best swimmers at the Olympics", daddy
explained. "Only there are way more of them than there are swimmers at the
Olympics."

"Wow! Cool!", I said. "How many ...sper-m...are in semen?"

"Well", dad replied. "Some of it depends on the man but on average there are
millions and millions...a hundred million...every time a man makes semen."

My mouth opened as wide as my eyes. "A hundred MILLION?" I asked.

Dad grinned and then chuckled, "Yeah, and some make even more."

"WOW!", I exclaimed. "Every time a man makes daddymilk?"

"Every time, kiddo", dad replied as he tousled my hair.

As I stood there, rather dumb founded by the biology lesson, I wondered just
how many sperm I must have had shot into me by all those men over the course
of the previous couple of weeks.

Dad looked at me and asked, "You okay? I didn't mean to freak you out or
anything...maybe you're still too young for all that information on the
stuff we daddies shoot."

I immediately shook my head. "Oh, no, no! It's just too cool!", I replied.
"It's just, well..."

"Yes?" dad asked softly.

"I just don't know...how do they get a hundred million of those sperm in the
daddymilk? I mean, a hundred million's a lot and you can't see them."

Dad chuckled, "Well, Kevy, they're really, really small...so small in fact,
you can't even see them unless you use a microscope. You know the Dr. Suess
story you like so much, 'Horton Hears a Who'?, dad asked.

"Uh ha", I replied nodding. "I like where just Horton can hear all those
Whos. But I don't like when nobody believes him."

"And those Whos are really, really there - all living on a speck of dust,
aren't they?", dad said, happy to have found sperm reference a little kid
might understand. "Sperm are a bit like those Whos. So small no one can see
them...but they're there...and there by the millions!"

"...And MILLIONS!' I giggled. "Wow", I said. "That's neat! No wonder you
can't see them."

Holding up the condom, "And that's why this here can work so well", dad said
as he returned to what he was doing. "Every sperm, and we know it's a
hundred million and more every time a man makes...like you call it...his
daddymilk...can potentially get into the mommy and make a baby in her. So
this thing, the condom, can stop that from happening."

"How?". I asked.

"Well, a daddy has to put it on his penis first.", dad explained quietly.
"And when he shoots his semen, with all that sperm in it, instead of it
going into the mommy, this thing catches it all."

"Oh", I replied, sort of understanding what my dad was explaining.

"And when the daddy is done filling the condom, he pulls his penis out of
the mommy and only then takes off the condom...his semen and sperm safe
inside it."

"Cool!" I said.

"But daddies and men only have to use these on big girls and mommies because
they're the only ones who can have a baby", dad continued. "The sperm can't
make a baby in anyone else so they don't need to use one of these."

"Like in boys, right?". I asked naively.

"Well...right...exactly", dad said calmly. "Boys can't have babies, so sperm
wouldn't do anything to them."

Even at seven, I already knew that but it was comforting to hear it from my
daddy, too.

"So why did the towel man give you a con-dum?" I asked.

"Well", dad replied with a deep breath, relieved that sex talk was over, "We
have to get Tomas to somehow drink the milk and he can't drink it from the
carton or a big boy cup. So..."

With those words, dad pulled the condom over the tall, slender cup, its
mouth not more than three-inches in diameter. "Viola! Instant baby bottle!",
he exclaimed.

"That's neat!", I said as I played with the reservoir tip, which looked
exactly like most any nipple of a bottle. "So he can drink from it? Wow."

"Not quite yet," dad said. "Remember how I said the condom helps daddies
prevent making a baby inside a mommy?"

I nodded.

"And that's why?" he prompted.

"Because", I replied, trying to remember what he'd just taught me about
sperm and condoms. "Because when the daddy shoots his daddymilk, this here
fills up with the sperm inside."

"Right!", dad said proudly. "I always knew you're the little smarty. Since
the condom holds the sperm in, what do we have to do to make it not hold the
sperm in?"

My brows knitted some more. "I dunno." I replied.

"We'd have to...make a hole in it somewhere, wouldn't we?", dad prodded.

"Oh YEAH!", I added. "Like when a balloon has a hole and it can't hold air."

"Exactly!" dad said. "Hand me that pen next to the bed."

I reached for the ballpoint pen and gave it to my dad. He inserted it up
through the condom and pierced the tip of the reservoir. "There!", he said.
"Now let's see if it works. Hand me the carton of milk."

Dad filled tall cup only a quarter of the way with milk and then stretched
the rubber, with its pierced tip, around the mouth of it again. Although
Tomas was quiet, seemingly content from his earlier feedings, dad picked him
up and placed the condom to the baby's lips. "Let's see if he sucks...", dad
said.

I knew he did but wasn't sure if he'd take to this makeshift baby bottle.

Tomas looked at it and looked some more and then suddenly opened his mouth
and began nursing on the condom's tip. I could see milk flow through the
nearly transparent rubber and knew Tomas was drinking.

"It works!" dad exclaimed. "Now we can enjoy our day...wasn't sure how the
little guy was going to get milk today."

I giggled a bit upon hearing that. Tomas had two feedings of milk already
and daddy didn't know!

"Can we go swimming now?", I asked. I was getting edgy knowing naked men
were down there at the pool. I didn't want to miss any of it.

Dad stood up, still feeding Tomas as he did so. I glanced down and thought
daddy's lump seemed even more prominent than before. "Let's head down
there", dad said. "I can hand off Tomas to Sid, that's the fellow in the
towel room, and then we can go have some fun."

Dad told me to just leave my towel where it was since it had been on the
floor. Then he asked me to carry the empty Moses basket as we went out into
the hallway. "I have the key", dad said. "Just close the door and put the
key in to lock it."

Naked, in only little flip flops, I stood in the dimly lit corridor locking
the door as dad, stood tall beside me, cradling and feeding Tomas.

As we started down the hallway, a gray-haired man wearing white Jockeys and
a wife-beater tee shirt, came out of his room and gave us a triple-take. He
walked along side of us, apparently headed to the common bath and shower
room.

He looked us up and down as we slowly made our way down the corridor.

"Hey...how you all doin' today?", the man asked.

"Hi", dad replied.

We walked along some more.

"You need some help with that", the man whispered as he nodded to the way
dad was feeding Tomas. "You let me know...I'm in Room 314."

"Yeah, thanks", dad replied. "I'll keep that in mind although we'll be
alright."

I walked along but at my height could see the man immediately had sprung a
boner inside his tight white undershorts.


To be continued...
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