Date: Tue, 22 Dec 2015 12:23:47 +0000 (UTC)
From: Koos Smit <kooss@rocketmail.com>
Subject: KRIS: CHAPTER 3

Kris

Chapter 3

I had been lounging on the patio, watching Kris and his friend Ian romping
in the pool, when my thoughts turned to the time that Kris first came into
my life as an eight year old: That first night that he spent with me after
his mother, Erika, left him with me is as fresh in my memory as if it
happened yesterday, and still gets my cock rampant whenever I think of it
...

We had spent the day just getting used to each other, getting him some
clothes and other things that he needed.  We talked about his life with
Erika.  He had a few tear-filled moments that day about his mom leaving
him, but by and large it seemed that their lifestyle had long ago cut him
loose from Erika's apron strings.  He was obviously a very independent
little fellow and completely at ease about being with me, a total stranger
to him despite having been told that I was his father.  In fact, as we went
about the shopping malls, it was obvious that he had no difficulty in
engaging instantly and warmly with people everywhere.  After a while I
noticed that, although he was friendly with everyone, he seemed to be
especially warm towards some of the men he encountered.  His eyes would
light up, his face would take on a certain ... I don't know ... pleading or
perhaps hungry look, his smile would broaden invitingly and he would become
very `touchy' with the man, taking his hand, holding onto his arm, leaning
up against him, hugging him around the waist or the thigh, and so on.  It
seemed at times almost as if he were engaged in some kind of seduction
dance with the man we had met and after a while I realised with a start
that that was exactly what he was doing.  Interestingly, all the men he
treated in this way had responded with an interest and willingness to
return the physical contact that had made me quite uncomfortable.

In one of the department stores I lost sight of him for just a moment and
he was gone.  I hunted for him in a state of panic for over an hour before
he appeared hand in hand with a flushed looking store manager who seemed
unable to look me in the eye.  I thought it mildly strange at the time but
was so relieved to have found Kris that I gave it no further thought.

I thought about Kris's flirting on the way home and concluded that he was
probably just mimicking Erika's behaviour in meeting strange men whom she
had identified as potential customers.

I asked Kris about it:

`I noticed you were very friendly to some of the men we met back in the
Mall?' I said.

Kris looked at me with a broad smile, his face lit with pride:

`Ja ... Mom always says my Pedo radar is the best!'

`What do you mean?' I asked naively.

Kris looked at me quizzically.

`You know? ... Pedos?  ... Guys that like boys?'

`Yes, I know what Pedos are!', I laughed, `But what on earth do you know
about Pedos?  You're only 8 years old!'

`Pedos really like me!', he replied with a chuckle.

`Of course they like you!  What's not to like?', I said, `But why are you
so friendly to them?  Did your Mom not teach you to stay away from Pedos?'

Kris looked at me pityingly.

`No, silly!', he laughed incredulously, `Why must I stay away from them?'

`Well ... because ... um ... er', I fumbled, `Well ... they could be mean
to you ... and do things that you are not ready for ...'

`Like what?', he pressed.

`Well ... like ... touching your private parts', I muttered.

`You mean my cock?', said Kris, cupping his crotch with the palm of his
hand.

`Well ... your willy ...', then, remembering how well-endowed my young son
was for his age, `... I suppose you can call it your cock!'

`But I like it when they play with my cock!'

`Good grief!', I said, `Has anyone ever played with your willy ... er
...cock?'

`Lots of times!' Kris replied with a chuckle

 `Who, Kris?' I demanded.

`Different guys', he replied.

`Where do they come from?', I pressed, amazed at what I was hearing.

`Uncle Sammy takes me to them ... sometimes they come to the flat', he
replied.

`And who is Uncle Sammy?', I asked.

`He's the man Mom works for', Kris replied.

`Your mom's pimp, in other words?', I said.

`Mom says we mustn't call him that!'

`So you're telling me that this "Uncle Sammy" lets men play with your cock
for money?', I asked sternly.

`Ja ... sure', Kris replied.

`Not just that', he added.

`What do you mean?' I asked

`I go all the way', he said.

I looked at him quizzically.

`I fuck ... suck ... wank ... rim ... anything!' he explained.

`And it's not only Uncle Sammy's clients ... I get my own clients too
... when I cruise the beachfront!', he added proudly.

I was amazed at his simple candour.  Strangely, I was not at all shocked.
On the contrary, I was strongly aroused at the picture that popped into my
imagination of that beautiful blonde head bobbing up and down on a man's
thick erected shaft.

I did not trust myself to speak.  My throat thickened and I felt my cock
stiffening under my shorts.

Kris noticed and matter-of-factly reached over to stroke my erection
through my shorts front.  He looked up at me and smiled.

`You like that!', he said, more affirmation than question, `Mom said we'll
get along fine `cos you like cock just like me!'

I said nothing and he continued rubbing and fingering my rapidly swelling
cock.

`Wow, you're big!' he remarked, `That's gonna hurt my ass!'

That brought me back from the clouds.  I gently moved his hand away from my
crotch.

`What's the matter?' he asked at once, his face crestfallen and anxious,
`Didn't I do it right?'

`No it's not that', I replied, `If anything you were doing it too well!
It's ... er ... just that ... er ... look, I need to concentrate on my
driving now, we can talk about it later'.

`Okay ... sure', he said, looking relieved, `I thought you maybe one of
those guys who look at me like they stepped in dogshit!'

`No, Kris, I would never think of you like that!  You're my boy and I will
never look down on you'.

Kris smiled his broad and smile and nuzzled his beautiful head against my
shoulder, He rested his forearm on my thigh with his elbow pushing up
against my still erected cock.  The warm touch sent an electric tingle
through my shaft but I decided to say nothing.

When we got back to my apartment block I had to use a couple of shopping
bags to conceal my still straining erection as we went up the lift to my
penthouse, with Kris smirking and winking at me all the way.  His own
impressive cocklet was also very prominently erected but he made no effort
to hide it, deliberately clasping his hands behind him and thrusting out
his pelvis ... despite my frantic facial gestures at him over the head of
the old lady who rode up part of the way with us.  If the old lady noticed
she said nothing about it and I was relieved when she got out.

`Kris!', I remonstrated sharply, `You'll get us chucked out of here!'

`She's as blind as a bat!', Kris laughed, his blue eyes filled with fun,
`If I took it out and wanked she wouldn't have seen nothing!'

Kris's sparkling eyes and happy laugh melted my anxiety instantly and I
smiled wryly at him.

 `Cheeky little bugger!', I said, reaching out and tousling his white blond
hair.

For answer he sidled up to me and hugged me around my waist as we travelled
the last few floors.

The lift opened directly into my apartment and no sooner had we stepped out
when Kris yanked off his T shirt and his shorts, the only clothes he had
been wearing, and charged off to jump into my rooftop pool.  I was about to
call him back to pick his clothes off the floor but instead I picked them
up myself.  I hadn't been a dad to him for eight years and another day or
two wouldn't make that much of a difference, I thought.

I watched him for a while, admiring the cock-tingling curves and bulges of
his well-proportioned, nicely-muscled young body, glistening honey brown as
he splashed about in the sun-drenched water.

`Come on in!', Kris called eagerly, beckoning with outstretched hand.

I desperately wanted to get into the pool with Kris but with my cock still
hard and swollen I realised that it would be too much of a test of my
resolve not to get involved in sexual activity with my son.  So I made an
excuse and scuttled off to my bathroom to shower and wank off the sexual
tension.

Some time later, as I stood panting and moaning in the shower with my one
hand pressed against the tiles and the other frenetically pumping my shaft
to climax, I became dimly aware of Kris watching me through the glass door.
I hardly had time to register this information when my cock started
spasming in ecstasy, jetting long silver ropes of cum against the glass.

Kris watched with interest as the great gusts of pleasure billowed through
my body, something he had no doubt seen many hundreds of times.  When,
finally, I was done, he pulled the door open and smiled up at me.

`You should of waited!  I was just coming to do that for you now!', he said
as he scooped up a fingerful of the cum dribbling down the wet glass and
licked it off with a slurp of his pink tongue.

`No, don't do that', I said uncomfortably as he scooped up another.

He looked at me in surprize as he licked that off too.

`Why?  I like it!' he said.

`Yes, I know, but ...', I stammered.

`Don't you want me to?', he asked, looking crestfallen.

`Erm ... dammit, this hard ...', I started, `Look .. there is nothing I
would like better ...'

Kris's face lit up at once.

`But ...', I continued, `You know ... I've never had sex with a kid before
... let alone my own son ... and ... the law says it's wrong...'

Kris nodded his head knowingly and raised a finger.  I got the feeling he
had heard this before and was about to give me a lecture.

`One', he said, ticking off a finger on his other hand, `How can it be
wrong if the kid and the man want it and enjoy it?'

`Two, how can it be wrong if nobody gets hurt?'

`Three, how can it be wrong if so many guys do it?'

`Four, I know policemen who do it ... and a magistrate also done it with me
... so I don't think the law really does say it's wrong!'

`Five, I know plenty dads do it with their sons!  I done it with them too.
It's how they love their sons!'

I had no answer to make that would not demean him or hurt his feelings, and
I could not risk that.

`Okay, Kris, maybe you're right ... about some of it anyway ... but this is
very new to me and I need to think about it'.

`Okay ... Dad', he replied, looking at me levelly.

It was the first time he had called me that.  Did I detect a trace of
sarcasm?  I searched his face but I could not tell.

He leaned forward and lapped up the rest of the cum dribbling slowly down
the glass shower door, winked at me and then turned on a hard bare heel to
pad back out to the pool.  The sight of that pink tongue lifting silvery
globs of cum off the wet glass and darting them back between full lips and
white teeth and the movements of his smooth throat as he swallowed them
with obvious relish brought my cock to instant erection again.  Once again
I wanked myself to release and sprayed the shower door with yet another
load of cum.

Normally I would have just angled the shower head and sprayed my cum off
the door, but on a whim I licked it off and swallowed it all as Kris had
done.  It was the first time I had ever tasted my own cum and, curiously,
the shared experience seemed to put a bond in place between us – barely
perceptible but there – the first of many.

After dinner that night we cuddled side by side on a sofa and watched TV.
Kris was still naked but I wore shorts and a T shirt as a kind of armour
against the intimacy that I feared he may initiate if we were both naked.
As it was I found myself struggling to banish the tingling of desire that
rose unbidden from my groin.  I was grateful that Kris made no move to
start anything as I was afraid that I might not be able to resist.

I had never had a steady boyfriend up to then (nor, indeed, since),
preferring to indulge my considerable sexual appetite with frequent and
varied casual encounters.  Nearly every other day I would pick up some
young guy at the gym or at a club or pub somewhere and bring him home for a
night of hard sex - no strings attached and no feelings involved.
Sometimes, if I was too lazy to go out I would call for a rent boy to be
delivered to my apartment.  Now I was beginning to wonder what impact Kris
was going to have on this lifestyle.  My concern was not so much about
exposing Kris to a parade of male prostitutes as it was about exposing them
to a promiscuous and seductive eight year boy who would probably view them
as sexual competitors!

Eventually I adjudged it time for Kris to go to bed and I took him to his
room.  He asked me to stay and stroke his back until he fell asleep, which
I was happy to do for him.  After a couple of strokes down the length of
his spine with the tips of my fingers he told me I was not doing it right.
Under his very specific direction he soon had me stroking the whole length
of his body from his shoulders to his heels and back with detours onto his
leathery foot soles, his ears, his neck, his scalp and even into his butt
crack.  From the wriggling and giggling it seemed to me that, far from
lulling him to sleep, my ministrations were actually stimulating him to a
state of excitement.  When he then flipped over onto his back and asked me
to `do his front', the straining erection of his blue-veined uncut cocklet
(really quite prodigious for his age) made this obvious.

Once again he had me feather-stroking from his shoulders to his feet and
back.  This time the detours were to his face, his lips, his ears, round
and between his toes and, with increasing frequency, his tight little ball
sac and his hard, thick, long, quivering cocklet.

Then at one point when I moved my fingers off his cocklet to stroke his
belly he grabbed my hand and moved it back onto his erected penis.

`Rub me there!', he gasped, his eyes glazed and his voice tight and husky
with lust.

`Okay, whoa!', I said, lifting my hand up, `It's absolutely time for you to
go to sleep now, little man!'

`Fuckit, you're no fun!  I'll do it myself!' Kris said crossly, closing his
fist firmly around his cocklet and pumping it with great energy and
purpose.

I sat beside my beautiful naked son for a while, watching and chuckling
inwardly at the red-faced toe-curling determination with which he was
flogging his log to climax.

`This is obviously going to take a while', I said to him as I stood up,
`I'm going to make something cold to drink.  If you want some when you're
done, I'll be in the kitchen.'

Kris said nothing.

When he had not joined me half an hour later I decided that he was probably
still cross with me, so I went to bed.  By then I was regretting not having
done as he had asked.  As I drifted into sleep I asked myself what harm
could it have done, after all, to masturbate my son?  Was there really a
difference between wanking him and doing what I had been doing anyway -
feather-stroking his cock, or indeed any part of his body, with the tips of
my fingers?  I must have confused the hell out of him.  What message had I
actually sent him by refusing?  More important, what message had I sent him
about himself?

Ah well, I thought, I would make it up to him in the morning.

* * * * * *

Well after midnight was woken by some sort of extrasensory perception that
there was someone in my room.  Somehow, I was not alarmed.  It was as if
the same intuition informed my senses that I was not in danger.
Nevertheless, I lay still while peering through the dark with slitted eyes
to try and see what had woken me.  I almost sat up when I saw it was Kris,
tiptoeing slowly toward me.  I decided not to startle him.  He was probably
lonely and looking for a warm body to cuddle next to.

I watched him as he came up to the side of my bed and then stared at me for
what seemed a long while.  I was about to throw the cover open for him when
he moved slowly around to the foot of my bed.  Next, I felt the cover being
lifted at my feet and Kris's warm body slithering under it.  Inch by inch
he crept up slowly between my legs.  The touch of his firm warm body
sparked a tingle in my cock and I felt it hardening involuntarily and
extending like a slowly filling hosepipe.  I spread my legs further apart
to give him room.  Instantly he stopped moving and lay dead still,
obviously waiting to see if I had woken.  I pretended to snore gently to
let him believe I was still asleep.  Reassured, he continued slithering up
between my legs until I felt his shoulders on my thighs and his arms on
either side of my waist.  His head lifted the bedcover and caused it dome
over my groin region as he wriggled about in the dark.

Then I felt his hard little fingers feeling their way around until they
found my now almost erected cock.  He placed a hand palm down on my swollen
shaft with his fingers pressing against the frenum.  The moment his fingers
touched that most sensitive spot I felt the blood literally surge into my
cock and make it instantly rock hard and quivering.  I heard a muffled
chuckle of satisfaction from Kris at this.

Almost immediately I felt the warm wetness of Kris's soft full lips as they
gently nibbled at my balls.  My mouth went dry and I could feel the blood
pounding in my ears as Kris sucked first one testicle into his mouth and
then the other.

As Kris sucked and kissed my balls, my conscience made a feeble last-ditch
attempt to speak up ... but quickly got shouted down by the animal lust
that had taken control of me and I surrendered myself completely to its
power.

Kris started to kiss, nibble and lick his way tantalisingly up my shaft.
When he finally reached the tip, I could bear the suspense no longer.  I
threw off the bedcover and switched on the bedside lamp.  Kris's broad
tanned face, bright blue eyes and wide mouth grinned at me.

`I knew you was awake!', he said.

`You're a persistent little monkey, I'll give you that!' I said to him.

`Please don't chase me away!' he pleaded, `I really need a fuck ... I aint
had one since Mom `n me left Durbs'.

He furrowed his brow a moment:

`Well ... except the guy at the truck stop', he said.

`And ... the manager at the department store this morning', he added.

I looked at him in astonishment.

`Really?', I asked, `You and the store manager?'

Kris nodded sheepishly.

I shook my head in disbelief, even as my cock hardened at the thought.

`I don't know about a fuck', I replied, `But you can carry on with what you
were doing and we'll see'

`Thanks, Dad!  You gonna get the best BJ you ever had now!', he said as he
lowered his head to take the swollen tip of my straining cock into his warm
moist mouth.

For the next half hour Kris worked a powerful magic on my cock and balls
with his practised lips, tongue and throat.  Time and again he brought me
to the brink of climax and back down again without ever taking me over the
top, though at times I begged him to.

`Just wait, Dad', he would say, `The best is still coming!'

Finally, Kris judged that it was time to step up the game and he got up
onto his knees beside me.

`Where's your lube?', he asked and pointed to a bedside cabinet, `In the
drawer there, right?'.

`What makes you think I would have any lube?', I asked with a smile.

`Ja, sure Dad, you fuck guys with that big shlong with no lube!', he
replied sarcastically.

`Okay, yes, it's in the drawer', I chuckled.

Kris fished the tube of lubricant out of the drawer and made a great act of
slathering lube over my cock.  Then he presented his arse and the tube to
me.

`Grease my arse ...', he said, `an' finger me good ... your cock is fucken
big!'

I had never fingered such a young anus before – not counting my own when
I was young and curious (although I doubt I was as young as eight at the
time) – and I found the soft but firm elasticity delightful.  At Kris's
urging I had pushed copious quantities of the jelly into and around his
hole and finger-fucked him vigorously, deep and hard, with first one, then
two and then three fingers.

`C'mon, Dad! Harder!  Use all your fingers!', Kris had panted .

Then, when Kris gauged that he was ready to take my cock inside him, he
stood over me, straddling my waist, and slowly lowered himself onto my rock
hard pole, guiding its swollen purple head into the shallow cup giving
entry to his flexing pucker.  He bobbed and wiggled his bum against it
gently but insistently as he slowly took it in, millimetre by millimetre,
groaning and panting gently as his anus stretched painfully to accommodate
my great girth.

`I'm way too big for you, Kris, I don't think this is a good idea!', I
said, concerned.

`No ... I ... can ... do ... it!', he hissed determinedly between pants.



Eventually I felt his anus surrender and, to the accompaniment of a long,
satisfied sigh, Kris began to slide a little more easily down my lubricated
shaft.

It was still a full two or three minutes of straining before Kris's hard
round buttocks finally came to rest against my groin.  He looked at me with
sparkling eyes, his red sweat glistening faced lit up with triumph.

`See, I told you!', he trumpeted.

I was amazed that he had been able to take the whole of my huge cock inside
him.  I looked at his flat belly, with its hint of a six pack, half
expecting to see my cockhead protruding under his smooth golden skin.
Needless to say, it was not.

The feeling of Kris's warm, tight, but elastic fuck channel gripping the
whole length of my swollen cock was indescribable.  And then, when he
starting to move, not just sliding up and down but back and forward and
side to side, not just pushing and pulling but pulsating as well, I
realised that I was being given the best fuck of my life so far.  That I
was getting it from an eight-year-old made it all the more remarkable.

As with the blowjob, Kris drove me repeatedly to the brink of climax, but
knew exactly when and how to wind it back before starting all over again.

When Kris finally decided to allow me to ejaculate, he pulled himself off
my cock just as I was approaching climax for the umpteenth time, jumped
backward, straddled my thighs and bent down, mouth stretched wide open, and
took just the tip of my cock into his wide mouth, lips barely touching my
cock.  Seconds later, as the rush of ecstasy exploded through my body, I
bellowed my delight as I shot a huge wad of cum into the back of his mouth,
which he gulped down hastily to make way for the extended burst of cum
shots that followed.  Unable to keep up with the copious flow, his mouth
filled to overflowing and jets of it squirted out of the corners of his
mouth (and even his nostrils) and ran down my shaft or splattered on my
belly..

When at last my cock had stopped squirting cum, Kris went down on the whole
length of my cock repeatedly, taking it all the way into his throat and
sucking off every trace of cum before pulling it out of his mouth like a
slippery eel and, holding it upright in his hand, bent down to lap the
spilled cum from around the base of my cock and from my belly.

Finally he sat back on his haunches and looked at me proudly, red cheeked
and sweaty from his exertions, his blue eyes gleaming as he wiped the last
traces of cum from his lips and his nose with the back of a hand.

`So how was that, Dad?', he challenged.

`That was absolutely amazing!' I said to him breathlessly, `How did you
learn to do that?'

`Uncle Sammy taught me some ... and lots of the guys I been with also
taught me stuff!', he replied.

Instead of revolting me as it might have before, I found myself actually
aroused at the thought of how many men's cocks must have rogered that
incredibly sexy little arse for him to have become so accomplished at his
age.

Seeing my cock stirring again, Kris reached out delightedly to close his
hard hand around it.

`I'm glad you're not a "one fuck" kinda guy, Dad, `cos I'm a pretty horny
kid and one is never enough for me either!'

I fucked my son's arse many times that night.  And he fucked mine.

No man that I had ever had sex with (nor any woman for that matter, few
though they were) had ever come even close to the skill of this eight year
old boy.  I was totally enthralled by Kris's sexual power.  And it had
seemed no natural ... so right ... that I never again had a guilty moment
about it.