Date: Tue, 13 Aug 2013 18:11:36 -0400
From: Quentin Compton <compton.quentin@gmail.com>
Subject: Good Boy pt 3

I think I've been asleep 15 minutes. Nope. Eleven. Last time I looked at
the clock, it said 5:49. Now it's 6:00. Dad's alarm clock is playing smooth
jazz. Softly at first, but it's getting a little louder.

His arms have been wrapped around me, all night, muscular and powerful. His
hands are sandpaper against my slight, smooth stomach and chest.
Occasionally he brushes my nipples, still sore from the tortures three days
ago. But he always kisses the back of my neck when he touches them, and he
never pinches them.

I have never felt so safe. What if it stops? I have never been so
scared. I've stayed awake all night, soaking up as much of him as I can. I
feel dad's deep, regulated breathing on my back. His chest pushes and
retreats on and from me. So much hair brushing against me each time. It's
like I can feel each individual one. I feel his soft cock in the crack of
my ass.

My boy cock, though, has been hard. All. Night. Just dripping on the
sheets. Twice daddy would reach down and play with it a little, and bring
his hand back up to my mouth to lick off the boy juices. I remember one
finger going down my throat, then two, and then three. It stretched the
corners of my mouth, like they were being pulled apart at the seems. "Good
boy," I remember dad saying. I remember his cock staying hard for a while
then.

Now, though, he rolls over to turn off the alarm clock. He's on his
back. "Here, boy," he says. I roll over and see he's put his left arm up
over his head. I envelope his whole left side, my legs under and over
his. I lay my left arm over his chest, and grab onto his shoulder. It fills
up my hand completely. I'm eating out the gift he's given me. Daddy's
pit. He smells like yardwork, and he lets out a rough, staccato sigh. Some
large, slowly waking beast.

He takes his left arm and lets it hang down to scratch the small of my back
and starts playing with the crack in my ass. He takes his right arm, puts
my chin in his hand and makes me look up into his eyes. "You made daddy
very hard, boy. Go down, and put just the tip in your mouth."

I am full of gratitude and eagerness. Had dad let me cum in the last 24
hours, I'd probably be too grossed out to put my own father's cock in my
mouth. It would be too weird. But he has me horny enough, I'd do whatever
he said. Walk around the neighborhood naked, put 100 clothespins all over
my body. Instead, he just asks me to do what I'd already been up all night
thinking about doing. Still, I hesitate. My throat's gone dry and my heart
is beating like I'd just raced a sprint. Dad slaps my face--medium
hard. "Now, boy. Start with just the tongue, and get really used to how
daddy tastes."

I work my way down the bed and lay my head on his hard stomach. I stick my
tongue out, and when I make contact with the tip, I go nuts. It's like,
electricity all over my body. I relax a bit, and embrace my hunger for
dad's cock.I feel hands in my hair, and I wrap my lips tightly around the
base of the head of his cock. "Suck, bitch," he says, and pulls my hair a
little. I do. He moans. I feel settled. I feel like I am doing exactly what
I'd been born to do.

He gives me instructions. In his deep, resonant, sleepy voice. "Take in a
little bit more, boy." "Stick your tongue out." "Yes, keep sucking." He
gently pushes my head down farther, until I start to gag and cough up all
kinds of mucus. He pulls my head off it, and jerks it himself a bit.

"Feels good, boy. My cock lubed with your spit. Do it again." And he pushes
my head down. I know I can't take any more, but then I kind of tilt my head
back, and I feel it slip into place deeper. He slides in and out of my like
this, I'm on all fours, my ass sticking up in an arch, my back completely
caved in. Like, it's instinct.

Dad pulls me off it again, and jerks a little again. He tells me to get a
bit more sleep, and he's going to do his routine downstairs. "Do NOT touch
that boy cock," he says. When he's gone, I see my phone light up on the
nightstand. There's a text. From stupid Eric. <<I'm picking you up for
school today.>>

I pas out before I can respond.

Dad is wet. With so much sweat. "Morning, Matty." One of his arms are under
the backs of my knees, the other is behind my shoulders. He's picking me
up, and curling me into himself and squeezing me against his damp chest. He
looks down at me for a while, and I think, and I hope, he might kiss me. He
does, but just on the forehead. He caries me to my room like this. "Back on
your knees, boy." And my nose is buried deep in his jock. It's smells
awful, sour, dirty laundry. But I get used to it. I want to learn to like
this smell. I start to lick at the jock. Dad laughs. "Good boy," he
says. "But no time, now. You're going to be late to school, and I'm already
late for work." He rustles my hair and walks away. Something in me aches.

I text Eric to pick me up from the bus stop. He's off limits, whatever that
means, and I don't exactly want to advertise to dad that we're spending
more time together than we need to. I've been avoiding him since that day
in the restroom. I think about telling him I'll just take the bus. But
honestly, something inside me wants to see Eric too.

I get in his stupid '99 Honda Civic. "At least I have a car," he tells
me. I shrug. It's quiet. "Ready for the 5k coming up?" I shrug again, but
my cock is getting hard. He's so tall, and his hair is curly, even though
it's short, and his stupid eyes are stupid gorgeous.

I fix my eyes on his crotch without really meaning to. Eric is stupid, but
I guess he's at least observant because he says. "Touch it if you want,
Matt. I know I want to touch yours." I look carefully at the air vent to
the right of me and clumsily put my hand in his lap. I'm pulling at the
lump, but it's all awkward and stuffed in on itself in his underwear. "You
can reach inside," he says.

I sigh. "You don't have to," Eric says. Again, the truth is I want to. So,
I unzip his shorts and reach in through his briefs and straighten his cock
out. He's right. Definitely not as large as mine, but it fills up my hand
nicely just the same. I wipe up some of his precum with my finger and then
bring it to his lips. He takes my whole finger in his mouth. "Hot," he
breathes.

I put my mouth to his ear, so that it is on his ear and say, "I'm going to
put the whole thing in my mouth after school today." And part of me wants
to take it back after I've said it, but mostly I want to see Eric hot and
bothered. He looks a little deflated, his eyes roll back in his head then
back on the road. I jerk on his cock just two more times, and I hear, "Oh
shit, oh shit, oh shit."

He cums in his briefs. "The fuck!" he shouts and pushes my arm away. I tell
him to take off the briefs and go commando today. It's not as fun for him
just now, he's not a bit horny, but I tell him in a couple hours he'll be
having the most embarrassing tents in his shorts during class.

It's not just a couple texts from dad today, but also a few from
Eric. <<You have to get me off again, man.>> <<Please, after school.>>
<<Will you really put it in your mouth?>> <<I'm so hard right now, it
hurts.>>

We're driving back to Eric's house after school. "Please, touch it Matty,
please." I tell him I don't want him to cum so quick again. I tell him he
hasn't earned being touched. He reaches down with his right hand to touch
himself, keeping his left on the steering wheel. It's all instinct when I
reach over and slap his face, lightly but firmly. Just like dad does to
me. "That cock is mine. It's not yours to touch," I say.

He gets out of his car, and I tell him to go back and get his dirty
briefs. We're in his house. Now we're in his room. I can smell his stupid
deodorant, it's perfume and fake, but I'm getting hard thinking of what I'm
about to do. "Strip and get two neck ties." He's hairier than me, and I'm
slightly jealous, but then I remember dad likes me smooth. He hands me both
of them. Eric has a stupid amount of muscle mass, but i'm more defined than
him. "Turn around, b--" I start to say bitch, but it doesn't feel
right. "Buddy," I say instead.

I kiss him on the back of the neck, and he melts. All posture is gone, all
nerves are gone and he is just one big response to stimuli. I wrap the
first tie around his eyes, and the second one I use to bind his hands
behind his back. I stand on my toes and kiss him. He's pretty clumsy with
it, swirling his tongue without much control, but I end it pulling at his
lower lip, sucking it out, and whisper, "Good boy."

I push him on the bed, and climb on top of his stomach. I put each of his
nipples between my thumb and forefingers and pinch, then twist hard. Eric
gasps and then yells and writhes. He can't be making that noise, his mom
could come home any minute, so I grab the briefs next to us on the bed, and
cram them down his mouth as far as they'll go. My mouth is against his ear,
"Nine more nip tortures," I tell him, "and I'll put it in my
mouth. Understand?" He makes an exaggerated nodding motion. I sit up and
twist around, and see his cock, dripping precum. I give it one good tug and
then I'm back on his nips.

He's focused his breathing, but after seven, I can see tears welling up in
his eyes. I take the briefs out of his mouth. "Can you make it, buddy?"

He nods. I slap his cheek medium hard. "That cum rags out of your
mouth. Answer me."

"Yes. Yes, sir," he says. I quickly take off my shirt, I lean over,
intoxicated with power and stick my arm pit in his face. He knows just what
to do. I slide off his stomach, and jerk his cock with my right hand, while
he eats out my left pit. In another minute, he's whining about something.

I take my hind of his cock, climb back on top of him and ask, "You close,
buddy?" He nods. I slap his face, harder, "Do not cum." I twist his
nipples. "Eight," I say. He is bucking, trying to get any stimulation to
his cock he can and whimpering from denial and pain. I want to touch myself
so badly, but don't dare. Dad'll know if I cum.

After the tenth torture, I'm good to my word. "Good job, buddy," I tell
him. I kneel on the floor, lean over the bed and take him in my mouth. It
doesn't taste like dad, the scent is less complicated, soaps and sweat, and
that's it, but I'm enthusiastic. I take him all, go past that speed bump in
the back of my throat. I wish I'd put the briefs back in his mouth, all I
hear is, "Shit. Oh shit, oh god," again, and again.

I tell him to roll over. I untie the necktie, he can jerk off, but has to
eat out my other pit. I lie next to him. I watch him spasm, and then become
so still. We hear the front door slam. Then, the rough, slurred speech of
Eric's actual Uncle Ian. "Hey Eric, you home?"