Date: Thu, 12 Jan 2017 00:55:08 +0000 (UTC)
From: Julian Otero <ba9ba9goodman@yahoo.com>
Subject: You Can...If You Want  part 5

You Can....If You Want  part 5

Let me know if you like this part. I will answer and am glad to exchange
thoughts.

Julian, ba9ba9goodman@yahoo.com
Please put the story title in the subject line

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You Can....If You Want  part 5

Adam, father, 32
Allen,  younger brother of Adam, 30
Ethan, age 10, son of Adam
Duane, Ethan's friend, age 10


    The first picture shows Duane with his dick deep into my son's
ass. Ethan's on his back, knees up near his ears. Both kids are smiling
cutely at the camera, their expressions seeming to say, "you'd like to be
doing this, wouldn't you?" The kids sucking, fucking, kissing: a lot of
images like this.
    Other folders: my brother with the boys. Ethan is ten now and Duane
just weeks away from double digit age. Both of them, eyes toward the
camera, are licking Allen's six incher obviously enjoying the taste while
being photographed. In all this what comes across is two happy boys greedy
for sexual pleasure. Four sets, 96 photos so far.
    We borrowed a beautiful location a Victorian townhouse lent by a
pedophile prominent in government away in Paris attending a conference
enjoying, as a side benefit, French boys as young as seven. His hospitality
he gets compensated with free copies. They will fetch top notch dollars due
to top notch artistic quality.
    I also posed both boys in black above-the-knee spandex shorts with lots
of time devoted to lighting, highlighting what was covered so you could
perv on them for hours.
    There something very hot when two pre-teen boys kiss. With two sessions
of posing experience behind them now pretty confortable with each other
before a camera they pretty much took over this session not needing much
direction from me. Sweet to see one's face in the other's groin, or nose
pressed into the ass of the other. I jerked off openly as testimony to the
beauty of it all.

    After meeting the boy and his parents on our tropical vacation and
making many legal arrangements with his parents I launched Duane into a
very promising modeling career. At the moment he appears in Christmas
catalogues from a very famous clothing retailer, sometimes alone or with
other children including my son, or with his professional mother and
father. The eyes of thousands of mother's that glace over his body on the
printed page hardly suspect how much boy and man cock the kid has had in
his mouth and up his ass. All they see is how well the cloths fit,
substituting their own son for the boy in the catalogue.

    Mr. Hopkins, Duane's father, nicked named `Hop,' a man with a great
perverted imagination, viewed the world with jaded eyes. After his son's
second trip to my studio he invited me for drinks at his club. Innuendo
followed innuendo, followed by hints and indirect language by which we
established I did indeed indulge in "that kind" of photography, and he took
great satisfaction in the discovery. Before we parted he casually remarked,
"If you do any of my son, let me know...I'd love to see them." Wink and
smile.  A shiver went through me as I walked away, thinking "Shit! We're
everywhere!"

    That first porn shoot went smoothly. First just Duane, then Duane and
my son in my studio with a plain generic background. He was to stay over
with me that night and would meet his father next day. That was the evening
I had the boy for the first time.
    "Sir, would you please suck my toes first?"
    Not such an unusual request from an adult, but remarkable from a ten
year old boy. Like peeling away layers of a onion Duane gradually permitted
me to discovery aspects of his sexual experience. Most of it was with his
father, some with his mother. She knew what father and son were doing with
each other. What fortune for me to stumble into a professional and personal
relations with this family!
    Some of this good fortune was to sink my cock ever so slowly into the
deep warm clef of a young black boy! What an experience that is!
    Patiently I waited for the right time, the right mood. Something in his
demeanor told me courting him wouldn't require a long and complicated
effort. So it happened we came to that point with him pants down bent over
my bed, my white hard cock against his brown ass.
    "Are you ready?" I whispered into Duane's ear and asked. "Is this how
your father's does it?"
    "He likes me on my back sir, ... I put my legs up for him. But I like
this way better...So does Ethan. You're the only grown-up beside my dad to
do sex with me." The boy was warm, aroused, breathing soft and shallow
anticipating what was about to happen. He needn't worry. It all went so
well, so beautifully well. My son's name spoken from his sensual lips
created a thrill I felt at the base of my cock. Then Duane became a bobble
head toy the way he nodded when I asked, "Do you like it, you like doing
this?" Of course I already knew, but I needed to know more. His back story
     "How many times you do it with your father?"
    Three of my fingertips were in his ass crack sampling the humid
temperature, imagining his father's hardness there.
    "Bunch...oh...aahh...I like...I like the way...you know: how it feels."
    "How it feels? Where?"
    "In my ass."
    "How old were you, first time?"
    "Seven." Three years of daddy sex. It really was "a bunch."
    "And Ethan?" How many times have you fucked that little monkey of
mine?" The little money was over at his uncle's that night, my
arrangement. Sodomy was also taking place there I had no doubt.
    Gently I turned Duane over, kissed his shoulders and licked his
shoulder blades. He giggled, and I made note of the ticklish spot. His skin
all over was satin on my tongue: under his arms, under his hairless tight
balls, skin the same smooth color of a hazel nut.
    Soon the kid's breathing got heavier knowing what was next: I lifted
him to me, opened his cheeks with my thumbs, introducing my cock head to
his anus, and held it there.
    "Tell me how many times."
    "A bunch of times...don't hurt me, sir."
    I liked that respectful word "sir." The sound of `sir' from his dirty
little lips affected my libido as if sparked by an electric jolt. It made
me feel like his master. I pushed more.
    "Please...you're bigger than my dad." I acknowledged that with a
satisfied grunt.
    My second thrust opened him a little more. "Please...I like doing it,
but not if it hurts..." How I wanted to shove! To violate his trust and
make him scream. That was a part of me I tried to keep under control,
always.

    "I won't hurt you honey...I've done it to Ethan many times. He likes
it...I've never hurt him" Still, with the boy pinned under me I shoved in a
little more, made him squeal. The squeal became a grunt, a lovely sound
from a young boy.
    "Do you like fucking my son, Duane? ... Tell me...Tell me about it, say
how his ass feels around your cute dick! You know Duane, he's a little
whore ...You like fucking a little whore? How would you like your father to
fuck him? Even both of you: your cock in his mouth and you daddy's dick up
his tight ass...!"
    I had trouble controlling myself. Here I was fucking the boy that fucks
my son for over a year. I wanted to force my way into his hole. Not rape,
just...just what?
    "Feels ...Oh, ow... uggh! wait!...let me get used to it!"
    "Ethan likes cock...I think he's a little faggot already...His uncle
fucks him, too, you know that?"
    This dirty talk was my way of savoring my arousal not that anything was
lacking in the boy under me. I was dating hot 32 year old pussy I'd met,
but in bed she barely moved the fuck meter. This kid did, big
time. Pedophilia had a new bright appeal making my dick super hard.
    We had plenty of time and I went slowly.
    "You like fucking my little faggot boy?" I asked Duane. "your father
said we could take pictures. Pictures with Ethan's dick up your ass. My
dick in your mouth. My brother licking your hot faggot ass. You want that?
    "Please stop Mr. Wilson...I have to stop...I'll do a blow job...I can't
get take it today. Please sir!" He begged so sweetly I relented. I flipped
onto my back. Duane was on me instantly even though I was sure he could
smell his own ass on me.
    But eventually we got around to what I wanted.
    Slowly sinking my cock into that boy's father-fucked anus was more
pleasurable than I can easily describe. The beautiful brown high round
mounds created a deep vestibule through which I sank before meeting the hot
and tight golden target. Passing through there required no negotiation:
this boy's pussy had been penetrated many times by his daddy. I found it
hot that my cock in the same passage as the little boy's father.
    And then there was the kid's softly spoken verbalizations, the cooing
and murmuring, releasing his obvious sexual pleasure. It recalled the times
with my brother.
    When I began to shove hard and called him a little fairy whore, his
sweet words got peppered with "bitch...cock pussy...rape". Language like
that from the mouth of a boy not old enough sperm was, I learned later,
coaxed by his father. The effect on me certainly was stimulating.
    Sweet it was to sodomize a near pubescent youngster other than my
son. Though I would deny it for awhile, I was acquiring a taste for boys of
tender age. All the young ones I had screwed up `til then had been older
teenagers. Now what my libido craved going forward seemed to be true
pedophilia.

    Question: Is fucking a black boy different from fucking a while boy?
Granted, Duane was only half black, but black enough to make some
comparison.
    Answer: the difference is in the details. Both are sweet and eager and
get hot easily, both do provide tremendous satisfaction. Compared to my
son, Duane's smell is more spicy, gently so. Sort a like graham
crackers. His dick and balls taste a bit more pungent as a result. And
licking his ass was a delight once you worked your way down that deep
ravine to his receptive boypussy. Duane's lips were larger than Ethan's so
could clamp onto my own lips more strongly, or suck my cock with a fuller
grip. So wonderful.
    Without disparaging my son in anyway I was a little envious of the
boy's father for having this little catamite at home ready to diddle at
night--or whenever.

    Pornography: It was watching little Duane's brown body huff and puff
over my son's smooth white body, watching his hard chocolate colored rod go
in and out again and again over Ethan's small firm ass, listening to them
both grunt like piglets, it was that that finally convinced me to make the
move into boy porn. The beauty of eager young boys fucking each other was
too much to keep to myself: those scenes needed sharing with the world and
even brought in a bunch of cash too.



                                                                                            postscript


        Five or six days after first screwing Duane I got a call his
father. He was angry, infuriated, mad as hell, and my asshole got very
tight.
    "Who gave you permission to put your dick up my son's ass?!!" Hopkins
shouted. "What are you, some kind of pervert?!!"
        I stumbled and stammered, could think of nothing to say. From my
throat the only sound was a weak whimper.
    "You really fucked up this time buddy boy" was the only thought my
terrified brain could form. There's no way out of this. Jailbird.
        "I, well, it..." I sniveled.
        Then came a softer, intimate tone over the phone: "How'd you like
it? Was it good?" He had to repeat the question several times, his voice
becoming more mellow each time.
        Me, in a tiny whisper voice: "Yes... yeah, it was... it
was...good...very good. Yes, it was."
    "I thought you'd like him...! Sonavabitch!"
        A long pause.
    "I gotta go. Let's get together soon. And bring the goddam pictures!"

				    -0-

Let me know if you like this part. I will answer and am glad to exchange
thoughts.

Julian, ba9ba9goodman@yahoo.com
Please put the story title in the subject line

And please contribute to nifty so this great archive can continue.
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.htm