Date: Wed, 9 Jul 2014 08:38:02 +0200
From: Zachary Blake <z.blake@mail.com>
Subject: It Started With His Undies - Chapter 3

IT STARTED WITH HIS UNDIES
By Zachyboy

(M/b, incest, fingering, rimming, oral, anal)

Disclaimer: The characters in this story, especially the tasty little young
one, are all being played by fully consenting adults. Benny, for instance,
who appears to be a mere lad of 10 thanks to the magic of Nifty
smell-o-vision (and after all, isn't that what fiction is truly all
about?), is really being played by a 58-year-old insurance salesman from
Boise named Irving. His horned-up dad is actually being played by six
members of the Utah Jazz. In other words, it's fiction, cookie, get over
it. If you're too young to read it, I sort of envy you, but go away. If it
breaks your local laws and ordinances to be here, you really need to
consider moving.

And for crying out loud, support the Nifty Archive Alliance:
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

It only takes a second to give what you can, and it keeps us all alive and
jacking for many happy years to cum. If you've never donated before, your
old pal Zachyboy and the pretty little boy in the story below dare you
to. Double-dare you.

On with the show.

# # # # # # # # # #

Chapter 3: "The Things We Can Do With Our Pee Cocks"

"You almost ready to get out of the hot tub, tiger?" My son smiled at me
and nodded his head. Just moments ago, he'd stuck his butthole in my face
and asked me to blow on it for him. And then he asked me if I'd enjoyed
licking it the night before, something I'd had no clue he knew I was
doing. And then he went back to giggling and splashing in the hot tub like
those questions were nothing out of the ordinary at all. Talk about leaving
me hanging. Or not hanging, and in fact, pretty fucking hard, as the case
may be.

And damn, talk about the sweet juxtaposition of being caught between that
particular rock-and-a-hard-place. The hard place, obviously, being the
sixer between my legs, which was plumping up just fine thanks to Benny's
anal inquiries and invitations. The hard place being wondering how much of
his hot tub come-on was flirting and how much was just innocent boy. Well,
like they say in the movies, there was only one way to find out.

"I'm ready," he giggled. Then with a pout and a lift of his arms, "Carry
me?"

He said it with his little boy voice. So soft, so sexy. Big little almond
eyes staring up at me, faux-pleadingly.

I'd carried Benny upstairs to bed for many years, but at 10, he just
started getting too heavy for me to do it reguarly. But lust has its own
way of increasing a dad's muscle output – significantly – so I was
more than happy to step out of the hot tub first, still naked and dripping
myself, and reach out to swoop him out and carry him wherever he needed to
go. Upstairs to my bedroom was my vote.

I picked him up under his naked little arms, all slippery and hairless, and
he latched himself around me, arms around my neck, legs locking around my
hips, latching on like a slippery little fish. The skin-on-skin heat of our
bodies, freshly warmed from the hot tub, was warmed even more by my pure,
unadulterated lust for my son. At this point, our body contact was charged
with electricity and the unknown promise of things to come.

J.M. Barrie, the man who wrote Peter Pan, breathlessly wrote about bathing
and disrobing a little boy in "The Little White Bird," where this most
famous of all boylovers said, "It was what I have been wanting all
along...this little boy, who in the midst of his play while I undressed
him, suddenly buried his head on my knees...of his dripping little form in
the bath, and how when I essayed to catch him, he had slipped from my arms
like a trout."

Benny was like that, nearly slipping from my arms like a trout, a little
too wet to get a good grip on, but I held onto him for dear life anyway,
his smooth and slippery little body rubbing up and down my hairy chest.

"Your chest hair is all scratchy, Daddy," he giggled in my ear, still using
his flirty little boy voice, his hot breath even warmer than his skin. "It
makes my pee cock tickle."

"Do you like it when your pee cock tickles, Benny?" I asked him quietly,
almost whispering it in his ear.

"Yes," he whispered back with a soft giggle. "And yours is really hard. I
can feel it on my legs and butt."

"Do you want to come upstairs to Daddy's room, baby?" I whispered back, my
own need urgent and my own dick still growing between my legs and his. "I
can make your pee cock feel really, really special, tiger. If you'll let
me, that is."

Benny threw his arms around me tighter. Nuzzled his nose into my neck even
deeper. Kissed my skin. Just a chaste little peck. He squirmed and
shifted. Felt my fully-erect cock pressing upwards against his butt. He
squiggled a little more, feeling it slide and slither against his baby
smooth skin.

"Yes," he whispered quietly in my ear, all naked and slippery. "Yes."

# # # # # # # # # #

I carried him upstairs just like that, both of us bare naked, still damp
from the tub, his little arms and legs wrapped around my body – me
barely noticing his weight as I eagerly took him to my room and laid him
softly on my bed. He watched me intently to see what would come next. I
don't think I knew what it would be myself. Benny's arms were up. His legs
were slightly spread, showing off his beautiful three-inch penis, hard and
inviting, and the little acorns that hung below.

I drew the blinds and the room became tender and dim. He was so beautiful
laying there, and never before have I wanted anyone so much or so
lovingly. I stopped just a second to admire him before even moving to him,
letting my eyes wander up and down his creamy skin, his lean, coltish legs,
his perfect torso, his tiny brown nipples, his long arms with their blond
feathery down. His neck. His fingers. Everything about him was so
beautifully boyish, I honestly didn't know if I wanted to fuck him or paint
his portrait. I'd have shot cum all over him doing either.

I'd been leading up to this for weeks, inhaling the scent of his
sticky-sweet undies and tasting his flavors. Masturbating over them,
fantasizing about what fucking him would feel like, and finally, last night
after a long, two-week painfully patient lead-up, fingered his tight ass
while he slept. I stood masturbating over him in the dark, smelling his
underwear, deep rich gulps from the fabric, watching Benny sleep, then
losing all semblance of self-control, getting incredibly bold and
hungry...fingering him, licking him, and pushing my cum up inside him when
I finished. Feeding my wad straight into his hole, a finger full at a
time. I thought he was sleeping, but he was only pretending. There I was,
pushing my own spilled jizz into my little boy's most private opening and
he was half-awake, half-asleep, but understanding it all.

And now here he was on my bed, bare naked, open and inviting, knowing
full-well what I'd done to him the night before, and asking me in that
sweet little boy voice of his, if I dared to do more. And oh yes, I did.

"Can you kiss me, Daddy?" he looked up with pouty, pretty eyes.

I lay down next to him immediately, him on the right, me on the left,
turned my head to face his, and planted a soft, chaste kiss on his tiny,
pouting lips, full and exciting, the color of a soft claret. His cheeks
were flushed and rosy. His breathing was deep. Labored and excited,
catching in his lungs and giving us both a little gasp when our lips met.

"Kiss me like grown-ups, Daddy," he whispered in that excruciatingly-sexy
little baby talk. I thought I would lose my mind or pop out of my own
rock-raging dick skin if he kept talking in that sweet little boy voice. "I
can teach you if you want me to," he giggled.

"Oh you can?" I said softly, teasing him back, nipping at his lips a little
with my teeth and withholding what he wanted. "Where did you learn how to
kiss like grown-ups?"

"Me and Ryan practice on each other," he said simply.

Ryan was a classmate who lived down the street from us. Benny and Ryan were
great friends, had sleepovers all the time, and it didn't surprise me at
10, and inquisitive, the two boys might be exploring each other's emerging
playthings with increasing activity.

I'd never seen them directly, but I did notice Ryan coming out of Benny's
room one afternoon with a clear hard-on showing through his too-tight
shorts. I chalked it up to natural law. When you're a boy their age, you
spend half the day with a hard dick. That little thing is loaded and ready
to go as soon as the wind blows. But in retrospect, it turns out little
Ryan may have been dick-hard and anxious for entirely other reasons, some
of them having to do with what appeared to be a few impromptu
tongue-sucking sessions with my little son. Well, good for them, I thought
with a smile. A boy's gotta learn somewhere.

"Does Ryan kiss you like this?" I asked Benny, closing in and giving him
another chaste peck on the lips.

"Nuh-uh," Benny giggled, immediately understanding the game.

"Does Ryan kiss you like this?" I asked again, this time lingering longer,
still a peck, but with a little swipe of my tongue, just the tip, running
across the top of his lip. The little dimple between his nose and his
mouth. That perfect alley little boys have. That philtrum, that medial
cleft that's so sexy and pronounced on little boys. And Benny's was no
exception. I licked it lightly again, my tongue dancing across it's tiny
alleyway. "I bet that's how he does it."

"Nope," Benny grinned. "Not that way either."

"How about this," I said, softly grabbing the back of his neck and pulling
his head toward mine. I could feel him shudder when I unexpectedly pulled
his face closer to mine so quickly, but again, I just lightly brushed his
lips with mine, licked across their tiny length with my tongue, and let him
go. I think he almost whimpered.

"No, Daddy," he said to me softly. "Like grown-ups. Like this."

And this time, he grabbed my head. And he pulled it toward his. And he was
on my lips instantly, with eagerness, with sweet little, fumbling
hunger. With very little sophistication, but with amazing sincerity
. Uncoordinated and shaky, but with a decidedly impressive little tongue
dance I would definitely have to remember to thank little Ryan for the next
time the tyke came over to play. Holy shit, that was a kiss.

Benny's little tongue probed through my lips instantly, darted into my
mouth, which opened on instinct to let him in, and he started licking it
with great eagerness against my own. His whole body rubbed up against me as
he kissed me, and between his legs, I could feel his little dicklet seeking
purchase, a hard little spike as eager as he was.

"Mmmmm" I moaned quietly, making both of our lips vibrate and tingle. He
still tasted like grilled cheese and raisins, his after school snack. His
tongue was an explosion of flavors. The sourness of dairy. The sweetness of
raisins. The beauty of a boy. There is no better taste. Anywhere.

We laid there making out, me moaning, Benny lapping and darting his tongue
against my mouth for seconds that ticked into minutes. For at least five
full minutes we greedily lapped and sucked at each other's mouths. Benny's
little hands came up to rub and grab at my chest hair, my hands slipped
down to cup his sexy bottom, squeezing his creamy white globes, kneading
them, pulling them apart and just barely grazing the fiery hotness of his
little rosebud with my thumbs. Instinctively when I did, Benny began to
hump up against my hip, throwing a leg around me, mashing his now rock-hard
little cocklet against my side, jabbing it into me, rubbing it back and
forth, faster and faster.

"Whoa," I said, pulling back from his mouth. "Slow down a little,
sport. There's no need to hurry it, baby. We can go nice and slow."

"My pee cock needs its tickles," he pouted, disappointed. "It needs its
tickles really bad, Daddy."

"Okay, baby," I smiled at him, pulling away from his precious face. "Let's
see what we can do to make your pee cock feel nice and tickly, okay?"

Benny smiled and looked embarassed. "You're going to cock suck me, aren't
you?"

Apparently Benny and Ryan were picking up all kinds of new vocabulary.

I whispered with a husky voice, turned on by his innocent verbing of the
term, looking down at his hard little fuck stick, standing straight up to
his belly button and begging for attention. "I'm going to cock suck you as
long and as special as I can."

And with that, I kneeled over him, pushed him back toward the headboard a
little, lifted his knees up, and immediately went down on his little pride
and joy. My tongue took a broad, leisurely lap at his tiny sack and
testicles. He shuddered and giggled. I looked at his little balls, tight
and firm in his acorn sack. He had a tiny mole on his ball sack, under his
left testicle. It had always been there, since birth. I'd seen it a million
times. But I'd never licked it until right now. Right this second.

"You're licking my magic marker dot," he giggled.

"God made a special little dot on you with a magic marker," we used to tell
him when he was little and he asked about the mole. "A dot so he'd always
remember which little baby you were."

Just hearing those words echoing back through the years turned me on even
more, picturing Benny's pretty little package at birth, at two, at four, at
six...that little mole, that dot from God, a reminder of how special he
really was. I put my nose to it. I teased it with my tongue.

"Do you like it when I lick your dot?" I asked from between his legs, all
pure thoughts of God and heaven aside.

"Mmm-hmm" he giggled as I did it again, letting my tongue flick across his
tiny balls, bringing a tiny contraction of his hard little penis. I did it
once again and his baby stick jumped in reflex.

"Please, Daddy," he whined adorably. "Suck my pee cock! It really needs a
cock suck!"

Demanding little man, calling the shots like that. I wasn't about to give
in that easily. I wanted to prolong his pleasure as much as mine. I wanted
him squirming for me to go down on him, and he nearly was already. I lapped
at him once again, this time going lower and taking a long, slow lick of
his crack and his boyhole.

"Daddy!" he cried out, jumping and tensing. And then with another giggle,
"You're licking my butt crack again!"

"Mmm-hmmm," I murmured...and not just your crack, kiddo, your whole tasty
hole, I thought, slathering it with my tongue, as instinctively he spread
his legs and raised his ass in the air, giving me freer access to his most
sacred of openings. I could see it clearly in the dim light as I lapped at
it. A tiny starfish, no bigger than a dime. It was pink, hairless and
perfectly symmetrical, a delicious little rosebud that began to loosen,
relax and finally open up for me the more I licked and probed it with my
tongue.

The tight muscle came loose, allowing my tongue tip to slip just slightly
inside, where instead of the tight rubber band entry of his anus, I could
now taste the smooth, soft, lubricated inner tissue of his rectal
wall. From tight and rubbery to soft and spongy in one glorious second of
entry. He shuddered when it entered him. He ground back against my face,
wanting more.

He had just been in the hot tub, so there was no poopy taste at all. He was
perfectly clean, inside and out. Hell, he'd given himself an enema on the
hot tub jets, laughing and giggling that "a piece of water just went up his
butt." And in the history of all mankind, not to point out the obvious,
where water flows, man will follow.

And tasting him, it was clear he was clean. There was no sweet-and-sour,
earthy vinegar taste left over from his last poopy, or any of the
intoxicating aromas I'd loved so much and been jacking off to, with his
warm, cast-off undies held tightly to my nose every morning after he left
for school. This was just pure, clean body and skin inside of him. Slightly
salty. A little bit coppery. And a little bit sweet, like graham crackers,
or soft cinnamon, or something undefined.

"Mmmm," he moaned as I continued to eat him. His dickie was forgotten as
his little hands came down to grab my head, pulling it further into him,
pushing his asshole up against my face, trying as hard as he could to get
just a little more of my tongue inside of him. I jabbed him with it as
deeply as I could, until every muscle inside my mouth was sore. Then I
licked the outside of his perfect anus again, and came up for air to see
him smiling, head back, eyes closed, in heaven.

Replacing my tongue with a spit-soaked finger, I came back up and kissed
him on the lips while slowly rubbing my finger against his sphincter.

"Did you my tongue in your poopy hole, baby?"

He didn't even speak. Just looked at me with big, wide eyes. Nodded yes.

I pressed the finger into him and he inhaled in a pleasured gasp. His eyes
rolled back. His jaw dropped open. He ground back against me, digging the
finger in further, all on his own accord.

I leaned in for a kiss and he opened his mouth for me. Tonguing him deeply,
circling my finger inside his wet, welcoming, hot little tunnel, pressing
up against the tiny magic button of his prostate, he moaned and pressed and
wiggled and kissed back. His dick was rock hard and his ass was opening up
like a flower to accommodate me.

"Please, Daddy," he moaned in heat. "Please suck my pee
cock. Pleeeeeaaasseeee! I need it soooo bad!!"

I couldn't deny his need any longer. I disengaged from his mouth. I licked
my way down his chest. I lapped the salty sweat from his tiny brown
nipples, trailed my way down to his belly button, his hairless pubis, his
tiny mound, and then at long last I settled in, engulfed his raging little
boy boner in my mouth and listened to him sigh in relief and coo in
satisfied delight as I began sucking and tonguing his sweet little treasure
stick in earnest.

Straight out of the hot tub, there was no flavor except that same clean
cinnamon skin. The usual scents of pissy little boy crotch I'd enjoyed so
much in his undies were nowhere to be found. There was no taste other than
spices and boy and the lingering scent of chlorine.

But he more than made up for the washed-off pheromones by writhing and
squirming underneath me, so grateful, so unrestrained. So unembarrassed to
have his daddy making him feel good this way. My oral ministrations were
gentle at first, but increasingly hungry as time went on, causing him to
twist and moan, occasionally causing him to shiver in an unintentional jerk
as I increased my suction and speed and the feelings were nearly too much
for him to process.

I took my mouth off for a moment and he immediately began to whimper,
wanting more. I looked up at his beautiful face, his eyes wide open, glassy
with hunger.

"Does Ryan cock suck you like this?" I asked him.

"Oh, no, Daddy," he whimpered, pushing his dick up at my face, trying to
put it in my mouth again. "Ryan cock sucks me just a little. You cock suck
me GOOD."

It was so adorable teasing him like that. Stopping for just a second and
feeling him pushing against my desperately, poking his hard little cock at
my cheek, at my nose, whimpering, trying desperately to stick it back into
the warm mouth that was treating it so magically. I couldn't deny him any
longer.

I went back to work, nibbling at him, slurping deeply, pulling at him with
the suction of my mouth, from the root of his Lifesaver-roll cocklet to its
throbbing pink and purple almond head. His cock was a little bit larger
than the length of my thumb, I thought. Same length and thickness. Suck my
thumb, I thought to myself, ridiculously. Suck my thumb whenever he's not
here, and it would be the same size, shape and experience as sucking
Benny. I moaned, imagining how many times I'd start sucking my thumb now
when I was masturbating with his underwear when he was away at school.

Only this was not a thumb. This was a hard little boy spike, and now Benny
was taking full control of it, grinding it into my mouth in active rhythm
now, going from a passive recipient of my lavish attention to a horned-up,
sexy, fully-needy boy in the driver's seat, thrashing, worming, wriggling,
twisting.

He was pushing so hard I was actually starting to feel it touch the back of
my throat. And that was an incredible turn-on to me. I liked him there,
pushing and grunting, trying to drive it home...that powerful feeling of my
10-year-old son pushing his cock into my mouth so hard I could actually
feel it touching my throat. And then, to make it ever more perfect he
grabbed me by the head and started pulling himself into me, gripping me,
yanking at me, honest-to-God face-fucking me. I could have cum right there.

"Cock suck me, cock suck me, cock suck me, cock suck me," he was whispering
in perfect rhythm to his thrusts, bucking and stabbing at me with his hard
little cocklet. "Cock suck me, cock suck me, cock suck me, cock suck me."

And I was only too happy to comply. My own cock was rock-hard and dripping
now. I could feel the dick slime oozing off my head and sticking to the
bedspread, his legs, wherever it rubbed.

He bucked. He clenched. He grabbed my hair. He mashed himself against me
with all his might, and then with an explosive shudder, Benny came.

"DADDD-EEEEEEE!" he wailed, as he shivered from top to bottom and just held
me there, his spasming cocklet pulsing and jerking in my mouth. Nothing
came out, not a single drop of the sweet boy nectar my greedy throat and
imagination were craving. It was a complete and exhaustive dry-cum for him,
but it was still incredibly sexy all the same, my 10-year-old son
shuddering and shaking in my arms, his sweaty hands still wrapped around my
wet hair, his little body gasping and trembling, as his juiceless orgasm
took him to a whole new place, a magical realm of utter release and total
relaxation.

"So good, Daddy," he gasped in breathless wonder. "So good, so good."

I licked my way up his tummy, tasting a salty little sweat trail all the
way up to his neck. I licked his Adam's apple and he shivered again. I
nuzzled into his neck, licking and nipping at him lightly. He giggled. I
came up to his mouth and kissed him again, a deep French kiss, my tongue
taking the lead this time, his little mouth opening to let me in. He could
taste his own little dick on my tongue and I could tell it excited him. I
lapped at him hungrily, my dick still hard between my legs. He reached out
and grabbed it. He gave it a squeeze. I moaned, still kissing him.

"Let me cock suck you," he whispered in my ear. "You cock sucked me so
good, Daddy. Let me cock suck you back."

"You better not, baby boy," I warned him. "Daddy's about to blow a lot of
juice right now, sweetie."

He looked at me quizzically.

"You remember how we talked about babies being made?" I reminded him. "And
how when a man and a lady want to make a baby, the man squirts the juice
out of his pee cock and into her vagina?"

"Her pussy," he giggled, delighting at the naughty word. "He shoots in her
pussy hole."

"Her pussy hole," I repeated back, growing even harder, and licking and
nibbling at his lips. "If you sucked Daddy's pee cock right now, tiger, a
whole bunch of that same sticky juice would come out and it would get all
over the inside of your mouth. And you might have to drink some of it. And
it would be a very big drink right now, sport. You've got me very excited
right now, and it would be a VERY big drink."

He seemed to consider this for a moment, but then went for the gold. "Would
the drink taste icky?" he asked simply.

"Not icky," I said. "Just salty and thick. And hot. Kind of slimy."

"Ewww," he giggled, wrinkling up his nose. "I don't know if I want to
swallow any drink of your slimy."

"It would taste like this," I told him, suddenly inspired. I reached down
and swiped a finger full of pre-cum off the tip of my cock and I brought it
up to his little lips.

"Like this?" he asked, as he tentatively licked it, curious and excited.

"It's just like that," I watched, turned-on as he ate it, "only thicker and
stronger."

"Mmmm," he said simply. "Tastes salty. Like peanut shells."

I watched him lick the shiny, sticky liquid off his finger. He put his
finger in his mouth all the way. Slid it in and out slowly, never losing
eye contact with me. He was blowing his own
finger. Pantomiming. Deep-throating himself, and even more exciting to me,
he knew he was making me hot. I could see it in his hungry eyes. He know he
could make me want him by doing this. Where in the world did this little
boy learn a lesson like that? From Ryan? Was Ryan was getting some
attention at home too? I'd have to look into that some day soon.

I studied Benny's little hands as he continued to slowly, erotically suck
my juice from his finger. They were losing the pudgy, adorable baby fat of
his earlier childhood. His fingers were becoming longer, leaner, delicate,
and birdlike. Frail, but incredibly sexy at the same time.

As I watched him suck his finger, I studied those perfect little hands and
wondered what they'd done before. I instantly imagined him exploring his
own little asshole for the first time with that very same finger, maybe
sucking it and getting it extra wet, soaked with his own spit like he was
doing now, before he pushed it inside himself, cautiously at first, then
deeper, needier.

I imagined those perfect fingers wrapped around his own slim dick as he
masturbated in bed at night. I'd heard him. Peeked through the doorway, so
I knew he did it. But it was always under the covers, so I'd never seen
it. At night, I can hear the soft sounds he's making while he strokes
himself. Little soft dove coos and whimpers. Now I could imagine those very
fingers wrapped around the small length of his little boy toy.

And then, of course, I imagined the shape of that perfect hand wrapped
around my own thick cock and I was too far beyond reason to hold back
anymore. Rather than switch positions and lay on my back, I simply moved up
over him, straddles his chest, my big balls nearly dangling on his nipples,
and I took his little hand in mine, and gave him exactly what he wanted. I
wrapped it around the hard, hot thickness of my cock.

Benny looked at me with happy surprise, then down at my cock, then back in
my eyes again, his lean, tiny fingers wrapped girth of my fuck stick, not
exactly masturbating me but just squeezing it gently, biding his time,
feeling it throb. No hurry, just getting used to the weight and the size
compared to own tiny fuck stick.

I looked at his hands around my dick, then at his eyes, then at his hand, I
could have seriously just lost it right there, all over his face, just
obsessing over, delighting over, the size and shape of his hands, and what
they might have done already, and what they could possibly do the next time
he sleeps over at his little friend's house. He was learning new lessons
tonight, and I knew he would share it with Ryan. A knowledge. A power. What
boys do with boys and what men do with men.

"Come on, Daddy," he whispered again, eagerly, bringing me out of my
reverie. "Let me cock suck you a little. Then you can give me a drink."

"You need a drink, baby?" I asked him hoarsely.

He didn't say anything. Just looked up and nodded at me, doe eyes
glistening in the reflected hallway light. Not saying a word. Just looking
up at me tenderly. Licking his lips slowly. Nodding yes.

Unable to hold off any longer, slowly, to savor what was left of this
first, beautiful moment, this incredible moment of truth, I brought the tip
of my hard cock down onto his beautiful, closed mouth, knowing nothing
would ever be the same between us from this point on. I ran it over his
lips gently, coating them, painting them with a soft, silver sheen. As soon
as I did, he licked it off. Swallowed. Smiled. Nodded yes again.

"Good," he whispered. "Tastes good, Daddy. More." And then not taking his
eyes of mine for an instant, he opened up and took me in.

My dick was big, almost impossibly big for his mouth, but he opened wide
anyway. I am only six inches, but to a little boy, that's massive. That's
plenty. That's more than enough. He made his biggest, most adorable "O," a
stretch and an effort to the best of his ability, and he took in my
glistening tip with all the gusto he could muster, his little lips smacking
at the taste of my salty pre-cum, licking it off and swallowing it down.

His little tongue came out, dancing and darting over the tip of my dick. It
swiped at the underside. It licked around my glans. It explored me
hungrily, darting at my piss slit, trying the texture and the flavor,
finding it good, trying it on for size, judging it, exploring it, measuring
it with his mouth. Then he opened wider, and tried to go deeper, only to
gag slightly at the length of my bone. When he made that soft gagging
noise, I moaned and jerked forward in spite of myself.

"I can't do it, Daddy," he said with tiny tears forming in his eyes. "It's
just too long for me. It won't go in all the way."

"That's okay, tiger," I told him. "Just the head, baby. The head's all we
need. You're doing fine. You're doing fine."

"But I WANT it all the way," he insisted stubbornly.

"Oh, sweetheart," I told him. "You've got lots of time to worry about
that. You're doing a great job right now. So good, baby. So good. Better
than anybody!"

"Really?" he said, disbelieving.

"Nobody who ever did this to me made it feel this good," I told him
honestly. It was 100% true as I watched his beautiful mouth just
millimeters from my dick head. "I mean it, Benny. You are better at this
than anybody."

He smiled, proud, and went back to my head. He latched on and began nursing
on me like a little baby boy. Feeding himself, soothing himself into a near
exhausted slumber as he sucked lazily on my cockhead. I think he actually
would have fallen asleep nursing on me if I'd let him, but my own needy
dick, almost insane with a mission to cum at this point, had much more
demanding ideas.

Gently, I began rocking my dick in and out of his mouth, not going deep,
but moving in and out enough to build up a gentle rhythm.

"Mmmm," he said with a mouthful of cock as my tempo increased. He was so
stuffed, cheeks bulging, eyes wide, it was all he could say.

Reaching behind me as I rocked in and out of his mouth, I felt for his
little dick and wasn't surprised to find it hard again and ready to
go. Benny was always hard at his age. From one little shudder to another,
he needed no recharge time at all. He was always just ready to go.

I mashed my hand against his hard little cocklet, still rocking my six in
and out of his mouth, not much farther than the head, certainly not all the
way down the length of the stalk, but the tip was all I needed. He
increased his suction, whether by instinct or training – I made another
mental note to make sure Ryan came over for a sleepover VERY soon – and
before I knew it, I was on the verge of exploding into him. I felt it
coming, like a train approaching daylight at the end of a long, dark
tunnel.

Quickly, I brought a finger up to my mouth and wet it liberally with
spit. Reaching behind me and down as far as I could between his spread
legs, I groped desperately for his little rosebud, but in the awkwardness
of my position, I couldn't quite find it. Couldn't quite get it in.

Knowing what I was trying to do, miraculously, gratefully, Benny reached
down with his own hand, still looking me right in the eye, and helped guide
my searching finger to the tip of his rosebud, where he pressed hard,
inviting me in. It was so sexy, this gesture, this help, I almost lost it
right there.

My finger slipped into his tight heat tunnel, and he gasped a little,
closed his eyes at the intrusion, but then opened them again, looked at me,
nodded, an almost imperceptive "go ahead" as I continued to rock into his
lips, my finger slowly sliding in an out of his rectum, deeply,
insistently.

My breath became ragged. My tempo became more forceful, eager. I fought
with myself not to just shove into his mouth and throat as deep as I
could. I moaned a little picturing everything in my mind. His soft little
cocklet turning hard. My mouth tonguing his sweet back door the night
before. Blowing at his little puckered asshole in the hot tub. The mole on
his ball sack, his dot from God. Sucking on his tongue and tasting sweet
raisins. It was too much to handle. My mind was on overload, and I could
feel my legs begin to shake as I pushed my dick in his mouth as far as I
dared. His eyes opened wider, but he didn't miss a stroke.

I took my finger out of his ass. Smelled it. Tasted it. Moaned at the
muskiness of him. Then wrapping my hand around my cock and never losing my
place in his mouth, I began to stroke my shaft quickly, so I could bring
myself over the edge and feed my little boy.

"Mmmph, God, oh, baby," I moaned. "I'm going to give you a drink now, okay
baby? Mmmph. Ungggh. Gotta...give you...just a little drink right now,
sweet Benny. Open wide. That's it. Open...really wide for
Daddy. Open...Wiiiiiii---"

And he did. His mouth flew wide open. A target I couldn't miss.

"MMMMPRRGGGHH!!!"

And I just absolutely creamed him.

I creamed his mouth, his face, his lips, his darting little tongue, his
teeth, his nostrils with the pent-up semen I'd been saving all day. The
creamy cum I'd been dying to feed him for the past two weeks. The hot load
of man jizz that wouldn't stop shooting, wouldn't stop gushing into the
sexy open mouth of my little boy below. And he was just amazing, licking at
it, gobbling at it, swallowing in big, hungry gulps, trying to get as much
of it as he could.

With the first swallow, he made a little face, surprised at the strength of
the taste, but then, little trooper that he was, got right back down to
business without any fear at all, eating it, taking it, even reaching up
with his own little fingertip to catch a little that had shot on the side
of his nose, only to feed it to himself, not wasting a drop.

"Oh, baby," I moaned, watching him feed himself my cum. "Such a good boy,
baby. Such a good boy for Daddy."

"I love you, Daddy," he whispered to me. "I love you, I love you, I love
you. So much. So much."

I squeezed every last drop onto his lips. He licked me clean. Licked off
every remaining molecule and swallowed it.

I crawled off him and lay down beside him, panting and exhausted. He leaned
over and laid his head on my chest. He stroked my chest hair and sighed in
satisfaction.

"Salty," he giggled. "Your juice tastes really salty."

He reached down and squeezed my sticky, softening cock. It lurched at his
touch.

"Maybe next time we'll have to put it somewhere else," I whispered to him,
between heavy breaths.

He giggled again.

"You mean in my butt," he said simply.

"One step at a time, baby," I whispered, sleepy. "No hurry. Plenty of
time."

He squeezed my dick again. I laid there letting him, sleep already coming
for me.

"Okay, Daddy," he yawned, nuzzling into me for a well-earned nap. "This
time we played pee cocks, next time we'll play butts."

Simple as that. The magnificent structure of boyhood, where everything has
order and logic. Even this.

We fell asleep, hearts slowing, bodies spent, minds at rest. Bare naked and
curled up against each other, we slept for hours, ruining that night's
sleep cycle for sure, but it didn't matter because tomorrow the weekend
started. We could stay up all night long if we wanted.

And it turns out we did.

It turns out that we did indeed "play butts" next time. In more ways than
I'd imagined.

The greatest adventure of them all was just hours ahead. And to think, it
all started with his undies.

# # # # End of Chapter 3 # # # #

Coming up in our grand finale:
Chapter 4: "Finally Scratching Benny's Itch"
Stand by! And please email me at the address below.
Peace,
Zachyboy
z.blake@mail.com