Date: Wed, 11 Nov 2015 14:06:56 +0000 (UTC)
From: Julian Otero <ba9ba9goodman@yahoo.com>
Subject: Best of the Bunch - part 7

Best of the Bunch - part 7

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    Monday evening I was home when Sasha arrived, a reversal of our usual
schedule a result of having taken a "sick" day. The thermometer had dropped
steadily throughout the day so my son appeared with glowing cheeks and a
red-chilled nose, making him more alluring than ever. Over a quite
dinner—no radio or tv this time—I asked how his day went.
    "Good"
    "That's all? Nothing else?"
    His mouth was occupied with the hamburger I made, but his eyes flashed
into mine and he grinned sheepishly and blushed. At that moment Sasha
looked to me as when he was 11, still a pup, with colt-like arms and
legs. I felt my cock stir.
    "We kissed..."
    "Yeah?" I said, honestly surprised. "Who?" I was always interested my
son's experiences and this was a milestone one. I wanted every detail. Was
he starting to get interested in girls? I mean, mutual cock play was pretty
normal for boys his age, but kissing another boy—that was rather
rare. Or was I behind the times?
    "Jorell."
    Ok. No girl. But I wasn't disappointed it was his best friend Jorell,
the very cute one whose lips were on my cock just yesterday. I wasn't
disappointed in the least. Sasha could get into girls later.
    "Dad, all day long at school I keep thinking of Jorell. What we all
did, you know? I got so many stiffies...like, all day!" Our little
fathers-and-sons orgy had had the same effect on me. He grinned and
continued "...and...my asshole was wet and tingled!" We both laughed. I
liked the new easiness between us about his sexual experiences. "At lunch
the guys jabbered away while I was thinkin' of Jorell's lips...how they
felt around my cock...the feeling, and his ass...my ass...when he fucked
me!" I was glad what had occurred the last two days hadn't changed my son's
direct talk about sex one bit.
    By now my cock was rock hard.
    When school ended he and Jorell found each other and went immediately
to the skate park. Only this time not to skate: It was Jorell's suggestion
to go around back of the old bridge's big stone support. He knew the deep
recesses in the stone work and drew my son into one, pressing his slim body
against Sasha.
    "It was getting dark so we were in shadow, pretty covered up. He
grabbed me and mashed his lips against mine."
    "Nice! That surprise you? Kissing? How you feel about that?" I wanted
to know as I served us some ice cream.
    "Man, I got hard right away!...like...boing! So hard it almost hurt"
    "So there's my son right out in the open making out with his black
boyfriend," I said sarcastically. "That's pretty queer isn't it?"
    "Dad! Didn't you tell me not to use that word!"
    "Well, yeah."
    "Didn't you say it's just sex,—just fucking? If it was a girl would
you say that?" I mused on that while playing with my dessert.
    "I wonder what you'd be like as a girl?"
    Now that brought a nice image to mind. My son as a girl. He was still
rather androgynous looking. His well-shaped tempting ass would be a little
wider, yes, his smell more delicate, jaw line not so...well, he was barely
13 with some mannerisms that sometimes looked feminine.
    "I like being a boy. Even if I like getting fucked!"
    That settled that.

    The desert finished, he started to clear off the table. I glanced at
his ass and the fine way he moved it.
    "Come here, honey." The sound of my voice made my intension
clear. Sasha put the dishes in the sink then stood next to me. "I don't
know if you're gay...If I'm gay" I said as I embraced him, "all I know,
honey, is I love you...always have and always will, and now I show it with
sex.."
    "Yeah, you said it's sex and if its love too it, what? ...rocks?"
    "What else did he do"? Sasha could feel my hard cock against his belly,
and I could feel responding hardness in his crotch. "Tell me all of it."
    "We kissed a few times. Felt each other a lot. He got down and sucked
me off." Sasha was amazed: "Right there, in the open!"
    "Took a chance."
    "I was hot...him too...he sucks good. I came so quick!"
    "Oh, Sasha, pretty, pretty boy." I whispered in his ear. The telling
was arousing, making us both needing contact.  I put my hand down the back
of his pants, my fingers searching between his lovely cheeks. He was hot
and sticky. I knew we wouldn't make it to the bed.
    "Sasha honey, you have a very beautiful, hot looking ass... I been
looking at it a long, long time..."
    We touched and kissed and rubbed and felt the warmest parts. He wasn't
passive any more. I smelled his neck and ears and hair, nibbled his earlobe
and lower lip, licked his face... In response, he reached down and massaged
my dick with his opened palm. For a long while we stayed joined like
that. No longer was there any shyness about what we wanted from each
other. The jazz station played low and cool.
    Still with my finger in his tender, hot young asshole, he said so
quietly I could barely hear him, "Dad fuck me." So sexy those words from
his mouth I had him repeat them several times.
    Fuck you? Oh baby, will I ever. In forty-eight hours my son went from
shyly asking to demanding.
    With his help I unbuckled his ripped jeans hastily, pushed everything
down and lowered myself to his beautiful cock. So smooth and new! So
perfectly sized for sucking or fucking other boys. I kissed it out of joy
and homage. And ego. I confess I was proud of the part I played in making
this boy's penis, which now began to lift rapidly and extend itself toward
my lips.
    He hadn't a chance to wash since Sunday morning so the rich fragrance
between his smooth thighs was unexpected but very thrilling. Just a few
sucks and licks and kisses was all I needed. Dick, hairless balls, smooth
thighs, ass: how outrageous! Me, the fucker of so many girls, now needed to
fuck my son. Needed him more than all the others, even his mother.
    "Sasha, bend over the table."
    My finger, the one laden with the musk of his asshole, caused him to
groan when I placed it under his nose. I wanted him to savor all aspects of
sex: touch, sight, smell, talk. I scooped some butter off the table and
slathered it on both of us.
    Sasha continued his telling as I started to enter into him. "After I
came in his mouth Jorell pushed me against the wall and kissed me real
hard. ... Dad, oh yeah...oh yeah" he sighed feeling his father's cock in
him deeper now..."he squeezed my ass against his stiffy...I opened my
mouth." Between his cheeks I went deeper still. "I could taste my cum from
his mouth...and, oh Dad-dee!...I... just sucked it out of him!" At this I
pushed passed the hot, tight guard of his boypussy. His breathing—mine
too—was labored. I waited.
     "That's pretty queer isn't it, Dad?" he gasped.  I wanted the talking
to stop but felt I couldn't ignore this important question even with my
dick lodged all the way into him. "Son...I don't imagine many 13 year old
boys suck their own cum from the mouth of their best friend...no, I don't
think that happens often."
    "Not queer?"
    "Who cares, Sasha. Your too young to worry about it. He's your best
bud...that sexy kid...the two of you. Just enjoy it!"
    "Like now?"
    That was my son's last question for now I began to pump into his
adolescent asshole and he became lost in the pleasure of anal
penetration. Nothing existed for us now but the sensation of fucking, of
penetrating and being penetrated deeply and lovingly. Father loving his son
more intimately than society allows.  Eventually that familiar exquisite
powerful pressure under my tight balls built to an explosive climax, my
sperm firing off deep into the boy's ass three, four, maybe five times, I
don't know. And that darling youngster spread as wide open as possible,
pushed against me hard, as if to say "give it, give it to me! Fuck me good
father!"
    When enough time passed to allow me to recover I turned him over and
sucked him off, hungry now to taste that sweet nectar from his smooth
adolescent balls. Nestled between my son's warm thighs I could believe I
wasn't his father any longer, but his age, and he my 12 year old pal whose
love I had missed those many years back. It was a sensation I got used to
very quickly and looked forward to repeating many more times. We smelled of
sex and sperm and sweat and ass, and it was good.
    Two slackened bodies sheened with dampness were now fully satisfied, as
too were our souls. For now.

    As we cleaned up Sasha said to me, "Daddy, I don't care if I'm queer."



The email from Adam read: "How about you send your dish over here for
tasting and I send mine to you? Overnight. I like the idea mucho. Say
yes. My pulse beats fast until you reply."

    Needless to say that delicious idea distracted me the whole day at
work. The image of Jorell's young, smooth, milk chocolate body, his smile,
lips, cock and balls kept popping into my mind in the middle of my class,
even. And the image of my son in Adam's bed, being fucked by that handsome
black man was super arousing.
    "But what if you like him more than me?" my son asked when laid out
Adam's proposition for him to consider.
    "Honey, you're my son. Nothing, no one, can replace the love I have for
you—especially not now." Sasha smiled. "And what if you turn out to want
Adam's loving more than mine? That's a risk for me too, isn't it?" In the
end Sasha, to my great delight, was keen to try it at least once, so we
made all the necessary arrangements.
    To lie next to Jorell for hours, just the two of us, to sample that
fine round tight ass, to kiss and lick and fuck it at leisure—fuck an
adolescent black boy—grew to an obsession with me. Adam's own obsession
with young white boys—with my white son—was something I could better
understand now.  I was so impatient for the weekend to arrive.


end part 7

I always like to hear from readers and invite you to tell me what part(s)
of the action you liked best.Julian,ba9ba9goodman@yahoo.com