Date: Wed, 6 Nov 2013 23:56:18 +0100 (CET)
From: Patrick Summers <p.summers@web.de>
Subject: Taking Sammy part 4

Sammy moaned. I had two fingers up his ass and was rubbing his little
pleasure spot and underneath me, my little son was coming apart. He was
sprawled on his back, legs akimbo, little hands fisted into the sheets.

I kept spreading my fingers slightly, very carefully stretching him out,
bit by tiny bit.

"Dad," Sammy squeaked, squirming into my touch. He was trying to say more,
but obviously the words wouldn't come, his mouth opening and closing
several times as he panted helplessly.

I had lost count how often I'd made him cum already. His little naked body
was draped atop my crisp white bed-sheets and he was making the sexiest
little noises as I coaxed him into another one, every peak another
opportunity to get him to open more.

"Oh!" Sammy's pink, wet lips stayed open, his hips raising from the
mattress as he plunged into orgasm rather abruptly, little dick quivering
with the force of it.

He'd finally started to make some real cum a while ago, but for now I'd
depleted him of it, milked his prostate until there was nothing left to
give. The evidence of that was glistening on his flat tummy, milky-white
globs painting his pale skin beautifully.

Sammy was breathing hard, his chest heaving as he stared at me sightlessly,
his eyes strangely empty as I continued to drive him insane. "Hunh," he
mewled and I bent down over him to take his mouth in a soft kiss,
swallowing the sound. Tracing my tongue around the seams of his pink mouth,
I continued licking downwards along his throat and let my lips caress my
son's erect little nipples.

At the same time, I never let up on my internal massage and by then, tears
were silently running down my son's cheeks as he shook with the burning
tremors his overstimulated prostate kept sending through his dick.

"Uhh, Daddy," he broke off, arching his back again as I stabbed my fingers
into that spot over and over again. His cries were getting frantic now,
breathy ah, ah, ah's being forced out of him.

He was almost ready now to take another one, three fingers an impressive
feat for an eleven-year old, even one with the experience that Sammy
had. My son was openly sobbing by the time I slowed down the massage, wrung
out from the repeated orgasms and riding the edge of another. Timing it
judging by the intensity of his internal clenches, I brought him a hair's
breadth away from release - and then I stopped.

Slipping out of him completely, I sat back on my haunches and just watched
him.

Shivering and weeping, Sammy protested the sudden cease of all stimulation
with wordless little cries, his empty little hole clenching on air. "Nooo,"
he blubbered desperately, "more, D-Daddy, ohhh, p-please?"

Lust slammed through me at the naked want Sammy displayed, and I had to
stifle a moan, tamper my own needs as my cock drooled and burned with the
desire to slam into that hairless pink hole and bury myself deep in my
son's ass.

I grabbed more lube and a long, thin vibrator from the nightstand and
before Sammy could even catch his breath fully, I was sliding the toy into
him. Just like before, Sammy opened for me beautifully, uttering sweet
whimpering sounds as his skinny thighs fell apart and his eyes rolled into
his head.

As I slowly fucked him with the vibrator, I couldn't help but think that my
son was made for this, was made for being reduced to a whimpering bundle of
nerve-endings

In moments, my small son was on the brink again, squealing in almost
pained-sounding pleasure. I shoved the vibrator in, teasing him with a
couple of well-timed thrusts and then I placed the tip directly on his
prostate, holding it there. And then I turned it on.

Gurgling gutturally, my son threw his head back and screamed in total
abandon, his dick quaking in my mouth as his hips shot up and he bowed his
back. The strong vibrations sent him over the edge almost right away and my
eleven-year-old son shrieked in bliss as he came hard.

So hard in fact, that after a few seconds of this, Sammy strained against
me with wild eyes, his whole body trembling before suddenly, he went
totally limp. Like a ragdoll, he slumped onto the bed, out cold.

Breathing hard, I acknowledged the fact that my son had just lost
consciousness from the extreme pleasure with a grin. I wasn't worried, I
had read about this online and was kind of thrilled that I'd managed
it. Sammy had been insatiable lately, and I was hoping to give him a bit of
longer-lasting relief with this intense session.

Sitting back, I gently turned off the vibrator and slipped it out. Sammy
didn't even twitch.  He just lay there, sprawled out, breathing easily as
if in deep sleep. He was beautiful like this.

I put my hand on Sammy's ass, gently tracing its curve until I reached the
sticky, wet hole, and dragged a finger down Sammy's crack.

This was one of the things I truly loved about Sammy: his deep, deep
sleep. When Sammy was out, he was out, especially after a series of
orgasms. I grinned. A marching band could walk through our house right now
and it wouldn't wake him up, I was sure.

I slowly fingered Sammy's fucked out hole. I really hadn't gone easy on my
young lover tonight, but still his tiny hole was already trying to close,
fluttering around the tip of my finger beautifully.

An idea formed as I touched my sleeping son, one that I couldn't ignore. I
was still hard as nails and desperate to get off. I'd planned to have Sammy
suck me off, but that wasn't an option now.

Just like Sammy, I was naked and ready to go, so I quickly slicked myself
up with a lot of lube and then carefully climbed up on the mattress and
positioned myself between Sammy's legs.

There was just enough space there for me and after slowly sliding two
fingers inside of Sammy - no resistance at all, so pliant in his sleep - I
guided my drooling cock to Sammy's opening and pushed inside.

I was so primed and it felt so good that I went a little too fast and
almost completely buried myself in my young son's body in one go. Sammy
moved a little then, a light stirring, a quiet grumble, and that adorable
snuffling sound I knew so well, but then he stilled again and I groaned
hotly, spilling a bit of pre-cum into that tight heat.

After only a moment, I started to move, slowly and gently, just sliding in
and out of Sammy's hot and soft channel, not even pushing in to the hilt,
just enjoying Sammy being so open for me, with none of the resistance that
was usually there when I took him when he was awake.

It was putting a strain on my arms and legs, keeping all of my weight off
Sammy, but I didn't much care. We were only connected where my dick was
sliding in and out in that steady rhythm and I loved the relaxed pleasure
of it.

Finally I pushed in deeper and Sammy let out an almost indecipherable moan,
but didn't wake up. I changed the angle a little. Usually I was all for
hitting my boy's prostate dead on, make him go wild like he'd gone earlier,
but I'd all but bruised the little nub and the last thing I wanted was for
Sammy to wake up to pain.

So I changed the angle of my hips and continued to fuck Sammy nice and
easy, slow and deep as I neared the peak without my usual urgency.

I loved how Sammy was in bed: loud, always moving, expressive and
energetic. I loved every second of it, but sometimes I craved the calmness
that this particular act usually never had.

So I relished every thrust, every push and pull and almost regretted it
when my orgasm started to build. I didn't change my rhythm; never let the
swelling pleasure take over my rational thinking like I did most of the
time.

I felt the pressure, the tension, and I quickened my pace, just a little
bit faster, just the tiniest bit deeper and when Sammy let out a sleepy
sigh, my breath hitched in my chest and I came deep inside of him in a
series of long, slow pulses. I moaned under my breath, arms trembling as
any tension I might have felt went out of me as I emptied myself into my
sleeping son.

Shuddering through the aftershocks, I prepared to slip out of him
carefully, unable to look away as Sammy's little chest moved with his deep,
regular breaths. He looked like an little angel, a rather debauched one at
the moment, but an angel nonetheless.

I'd clean him up, change the sheets and would go for a quick shower before
joining Sammy in what had become our bed. But for now, I enjoyed the
intimate connection of our bodies, thanking my lucky stars for giving me
such a perfect son.



The end



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