Date: Fri, 24 Mar 2017 00:46:10 +0000 From: Charles Hughes Subject: BILLY'S BOYS - 3 Adult/Youth - oral anal This story is completely fiction; it is the story of an adult and his sexual relationship with minors. It is only fantasy. If you are not 18, or if it is illegal for any reason for you to read such material, you must leave now. Copyright 2016 Charles Hughes, all rights reserved. If you would like to copy the story, please, just ask. There are links to my stories listed under my name on Nifty's Prolific Authors page. I will answer all emails; reader response is important to me. Please put the title of the story in the Subject line and use this address: the.back.door@hotmail.com Emails with attachments are deleted unopened. BILLY'S BOYS - 3 The next morning was pretty sultry. I was sitting out on the porch on the front of the store when young Robert rode by on a bicycle. He waved, and I waved back. About ten minutes later, he came back, rode up to the porch, slid to a stop, and grinned up at me. "Morning, Robert. That's some bike you got there." "It was my Uncle Frank's. Grandma said I could ride it if I fixed it up. I just tightened up a few things and washed it off." He looked proud as punch at his accomplishment. He also looked cute as hell. His red hair was plastered around his head by the sweat he'd worked up; he'd lost a shirt button, and his shirt was open enough for me to see part of a smooth, white chest. "Hot this morning, ain't it, son? And you look plum tuckered. Run in there and get you a pop out of the cooler. My treat." Robert propped his bike up against the steps and ran inside; the old screen slammed with a bang behind him. He walked out a minute later with a cold bottle of grape, dropped his shirt to the porch floor, and sat on the edge of the porch in front of me, propping himself up against the post. He took another deep, satisfied gulp from his pop. His pale throat moved repeatedly as he swallowed. "Thanks, Billy." Another deep gulp. "And my name's Bobby. It's only Grandma who calls me Robert." He grinned. "All right, then, it's Bobby." Well, we got to talking about his daddy and his uncle Frank -- I'd known them both when they were horny little boys growing up. I told a few funny stories about them, and his little giggles sounded so sweet. I couldn't take my eyes off his pale little chest and shoulders. Now and then I could catch a glimpse of a nipple, so pale against his skin it was almost invisible. The sun was hitting this nine-year-old boy at the back of his head, and his red hair looked like a halo of fire. I couldn't hardly concentrate on our conversation. His chest and belly moved gently with his breathing... "What's that...?" "I said there's not a lot to do around here," he repeated. "Oh, wasn't always like this, Robert... ah, Bobby. Back when your daddy was a boy, this was a busy neighborhood. Right across there..." -- I pointed across the road -- "was Harry Jenkins' farm supply. Always busy. He sold feed, tools, seed, whatever. Back then, 'course, we didn't have cars around here yet. Was always a couple of wagons with their teams tied up over there..." "Horses?" I smiled. "Sure, son. Only way to get around back then. That and shank's mare." I laughed and slapped my leg when he looked puzzled. "This here, this is shank's mare. And look over there." I pointed across the road in the other direction. "A cemetery?" "But back then there was this little church back there in them trees. Always something going on over there. But the busiest place was right over there." I pointed kitty-corner from my place, nothing but soybeans over there now. "That was our school. Kids from all over this part of the county went there -- including your daddy. If they wanted to go on to high school, they had to go into town. A lot of kids didn't, back then. But there was always kids to watch over there. When I didn't have customers, I'd sit out here on my porch and watch 'em coming and going, playing during their lunch time. And some of them would come over here after school for a treat." Yeah, I'd treated some, all right. "Funny thing about the boys," I added. It was time to plant a little seed in his little head. "They was always supposed to use the outhouse. And they did before school and lunch time, when one of the teachers was watching them. But if they had to pee during school, they'd come out the door, head around the corner, pull out their dicks, and pee right there where I could see them." I chuckled. "Lots of boy pee over there; I'm surprised they could ever get crops to grow on that spot." Bobby was looking across to the other corner, like he could see one of them boys -- about his age maybe, with a little dick like his maybe -- peeing right now. "Or on the way home, sometimes they'd run over into the cemetery to pee. Or stop along the road over there where they though nobody could see them. 'Course, I could see them there. Boys just seem to like to pee outside." Bobby shifted his hips a little. His little nine-year-old pecker had to feel that. "Boy or man -- peeing just seems so natural a thing to do. I guess doing it outside is sort of natural, too." I started talking about his daddy again, then, and he had some more questions. But pretty soon, sure enough... "Uh... Billy... I got to pee. Can I...?" "Sure, son, just run around the corner there and pee away. Nobody can see you." He looked a little surprised. Everybody had indoor toilets these days, even me. But maybe he figured I didn't. He got up slowly, but he got down from the porch and walked around the corner of the store. Pretty soon he come back, still zipping up his pants. "You water that spot pretty good, did you?" I grinned at him. He giggled a little and then blushed a bit. So cute. A little redheaded boy blushing. It showed up those few freckles across his nose. He picked up his shirt from the porch. "Um... I guess I got to go now, Billy. My grandma will be wondering where I am." "Okay, Bobby. You just come by anytime you want, son. Old man like me don't have much to do except talk." I laughed. He grinned again, pulled his shirt on, and hopped on his bike. He pumped away, his little body swaying a bit as he picked up speed. His perky little boybutt behind him. I rubbed my old dick a couple of times. Nice boy. Bobby. Nine. There were some nine-year-olds back then. Tender little boydicks... Such tasty little pussies... I sighed and went back into the store. Had to restock the cooler for the migrants later in the afternoon. I looked down at the case I'd put out for empties, and there was that empty bottle of orange pop... Little Leroy had put it there... Hadn't he? I picked it up and held it a minute. I remembered the cold moisture on the outside of it when he drank from it, how he'd let the drops of cold water drip down his bare belly and slide under his overalls and over that smooth place and down to his little cocklet. That had actually happened. This here orange pop bottle proves it. I think. I tightened my hand around that empty bottle and carried it over behind the counter. I set it up on a shelf where I could see it. 'Course, I kept looking for this Roger all morning. Only seven, didn't Lenny say? Only one customer. Then I ate my lunch on the porch with my eye on the road. Lenny's ass was so tight, so slick and smooth inside... Only one customer in the afternoon. Then the migrants stopped by on their way home. Two trucks this time, and a few more groceries along with the beer. Just some soup for supper, and I ate that in the back. Store was still open, cause I keep it open until dark. No Roger. So, I finally locked the front door and turned off all the lights 'cept that one over the register. And when I walked around the corner of the counter to get to the back, there he was. About gave me a heart attack. "Shit, boy!" I could feel my heart pounding. A cute little chubby boy. Curly brown hair, falling down over his green eyes. Little pouty lips, but with a sweet smile on them. "Don't scare an old man like that!" "Sorry, Billy. But you expected me, didn't you? Lenny said..." "Roger. You're Roger?" He nodded. Didn't even come up to my shoulders. A shabby old t-shirt way too big for him. Blue jeans and bare feet. And then I didn't know what to say. A dream come true? Or just a dream? Roger grinned. And there was a little dimple in each cheek! "Lenny said you did it again. Gave him a good one, he said." He rubbed between his legs, and the old sausage perked up when I realized what he was rubbing. "We all jacked off when he told us about it. Of course, I can't shoot. But I sure shook big when it happened." He giggled, and I remembered the giggle of little Bobby earlier in the day. A young boy's giggle is such sweet music! I had a flashback about the Harrison boy, the one who was so ticklish. Ten, I think he was. I'd play with him out behind the old church across the way so I could let him giggle as much as he wanted to. First few times he didn't need to get naked, just pulled out his little pecker. I'd sit him up on an old headstone and suck that little lollypop until he leaned into me as he shook with his dry cum. Then, later, he learned to love getting stark naked out there under the moon. I'd eat his ass out while he was bent over and start to tickle him when I was ready to shove my cock in. He'd giggle so much his tight little hole just relaxed for me and welcomed my hard... "Say what, son?" "I said that all the boys like to tell about their visits to you; you're so good. Can I get naked?" Can he...? "Sure, son. But, look, let's go back here in my little room." He took my hand, and we walked down the short hallway to the area I'd made into a kind of little apartment. Just a little kitchen, bathroom, bed, closet. When we got there, Roger pulled me over to the big overstuffed chair where I listen to the radio some. And nap.. He sat me down in the chair and stood in front of me, pulling his oversized t-shirt over his head. As his chubby arms pulled it up, I could see his round belly -- and two little boytits nice and pert. Then his underarms, smooth and hairless. He had no problem getting the big shirt over his head, and his grinning face appeared suddenly. He dropped the t-shirt to the floor, and his boybelly jiggled a bit as he moved. Then he grinned bigger as he cupped his titties in his hands, holding them toward me as if they were a gift. He giggled before I could do anything, and then he unbuttoned my shirt and let it drop to the floor. Then he hopped up on my lap. "Billy, tell me one of your stories. Please." I put my arm around his warm little shoulders; I couldn't help but lay a hand on that round, warm belly and stroke it. He put his hand on my chest hair. His hand felt soft and warm against my chest. Naked from the waist up, he nestled into me. Then he put his head against my shoulder. "Tell me about your horse again. About Dan Patch." Dan Patch? How did he know...? Dan Patch was my horse when I was a kid, named for the best trotter there ever was. I rode him to do errands, and one day someting spooked him. He threw me off and dragged me a hundred yards before I could untangle my foot from the stirrup. Hadn't thought about old Dan Patch for years... So I told him. He had to have heard it before, because he kept prompting me with things only I knew -- or anyone I'd told the story to. And all the while I was moving my hand over that smooth belly and up to his chest, playing with those seven-year-old boytits a little when I was in the neighborhood. His nipples were larger than most boys, because of his weight, I guess. Dark and soft. Until I'd squeeze them a little. And cup my hand over the little tittie behind the nipples. And on the next trip down, my hand didn't stop at the bottom of his belly. I slid it under the waistband of his pants to pet that smooth mound above his little dick. He sighed and nestled into me a little more. My story was over, so we were both quiet while I unfastened his waistband so I could reach down more to get his dick. It was soft and so little. I let my fingers move over it, but there wasn't much moving to do. Roger was breathing deep, and I could feel his breath on my chest. I pulled on his pants, and he rose up enough so I could get them down and off. He wasn't wearing underpants. Then he curled back up in my lap. A cute, chubby little seven-year-old, naked in my lap I lowered my head so I could lick my tongue over a fat tittie and it's nipple. "Oh, Billy, yea... that feels so nice. Suck my titties..." So I did. What boy doesn't like having his nipples played with? I sucked one in and tasted him. Then the other one. A pair of seven-year-old boytits, so soft and smooth against my tongue and lips. I could feel the tit enter between my lips, and I licked across the nipple as they were deep inside my mouth. A tasty treat. And while I nursed on his titties, my fingers were playing around his little dick and balls. A young boy's dick is so lovely. So small, you wouldn't think it could grow into something so big. His cute pink dickhead was circled by a crown of skin, like a halo around a little angel boy. And what would one day be the shaft of his cock was no more than a little stick connecting that pink beauty to his groin. I let his titty drop from my mouth so I could watch his little cocklet while I played. Probably not more than two inches yet. It was soft and pliable when I pulled his pants off; now it was stiff and hard, a tiny rod of boyflesh. He groaned as I played with it. "Oh, Billy... I love that... yeaaaaa..." He was feeling it inside now. His shallow, faster breaths made his chubby tummy bounce a little, and he almost buried his face in my chest. I fngered his balls next. Almost no balls at all. Just a little sack of soft skin holding a couple of tiny marbles. I pressed the flat of my palm against his balls gently, and his moaning got louder. And his wiggling through all this while he was on my lap was giving my cock a nice massage. I shifted from side to side to counter his rocking in my lap. His lovely boybottom... But I couldn't take it much longer. I needed to feel that boybottom with my thighs, my cock. I held him away from me for a minute while I unfastened my pants. When he realized what I was doing, Roger hopped off my lap and got my pants off. He hardly looked at my cock before he sat back down on it, and the sudden pressing of his soft, warm ass against my old dick. He was nestled back against me again, pressing my cock against my thigh, and rocking his boyass over it. My cock throbbed with pleasure, and I know he felt it. He looked up at me and grinned. He raised his face for a kiss, and his lips were so soft. Small, soft, warm, moist. It was his tongue, not mine, that snaked out first, licking across my lips and then pushing between them. Oh, a little tongue like that is so sweet in my mouth. I licked against it, sucked on it, pushed it from one side to the other. He pressed his face up against mine, mashing our lips together. I tasted him, that delicate sweetness of boy... inside my mouth... His chubby ass rubbing my cock... One of his hands playing with my nipple... I sucked at his mouth for a long time, like I was sucking his boyhood into my old body, feeding on it. He slowly slid down between my legs, opening them a bit, and he stood in front of me, holding my cock in his little hand. "It's so big, Billy," he whispered. "It's so hot." He grinned up at me. "I can feel your heart beating through it." Then he got down on his knees and held my cock with one hand as he licked at it, all around the cockhead. Now it was me that moaned. That tiny tongue, washing my cockhead around and around. He sucked at the tip of it and worked hard to get the whole cockhead in his mouth. And he did it. He couldn't lick while it was in his mouth, but he sucked like he was sucking on a straw. And one hand went down under to rub my big balls. His touch was light, but he knew what he was doing. He rolled them around and around and pulled on them gently. "Oh baby... Oh Roger... yes suck my big cock yes yes yes..." I put my hands on his head and ran my fingers through his soft hair. His big brown eyes looked up at me; I know, if he'd been able to do it, he would have smiled. Yes, pretty one, yes suck it... But now I needed to taste him. I reached for his underarms to pull him over and up on top of the bed, but he was heavy enough that he had to do most of the work. He wound up lying with his head on my pillow, and I was sitting next to him. I ran my hands over his shoulders and chest, down his belly, down over his smooth mound, down to his hard little cocklet, down one of his smooth thighs. His skin was like silk. I pulled him around so I could kiss all over his fat little tummy. He giggled, but his giggles died when my kisses moved to his groin. I licked there first. I licked his smooth skin on his pubic mound, then down into the cleft between his boyballs and his thigh. He moaned and opened his legs a little wider for me. My tongue washed his balls, and then I held his dicklet with my thumb and finger so I could lick it from tiny little peehole down to where it met his body. He tasted so good. Then I began to suck him. His cocklet, as hard as it was, was almost lost in my mouth. I moved his little dickhead around with my tongue, still sucking a little. I rolled it around, tasting every bit of it I could. "Billy... Billy..." I may not remember him in my dreams, but I sure as hell know what it means when a young boy speaks with that tone, half whisper and half grunt. He was getting ready for his cum, his seven-year-old dick trembling in my mouth already. My hand was on one thigh, and I felt it begin to quiver. Then it seemed like his whole body began to shake. His groans were high-pitched now, and suddenly his cocklet began to thrash around in my mouth like an angry snake. He shoved his groin at me, and almost squealed his pleasure. "Eeeeeeee... nnnnnnn... oooooooo..." He sang all the way through his cum, and was still singing when his precious little dicklet stopped moving. I sucked gently then and let this sweet child fully enjoy the afterglow of a great dry cum. I lay my head next to him on the bed; there wasn't enough room for me to climb up there next to him. I felt his fingers combing through my hair as he hummed. After a few minutes, he raised up on one elbow to look at me, dipped his face to kiss my cheek, and smiled that angelic smile with those sweet dimples. "Billy, will you fuck me again?" "Son, you know I don't fuck boys young as... What did you say? Fuck you again?" "Oh, I forgot," Roger said. "You don't remember us in your dreams." He grinned. "But I sure remember how you fucked me for the first time! It was the best thing ever, Billy." He stroked my hair. "Please, Billy. I want it again." I fucked him...? How could I have fucked this chubby little cherub and forgotten it? Just seven? But, he's right; I don't remember them in my dreams. I hadn't remembered Leroy or Lonnie. But I remember them now. After they'd been here for real. Roger raised up on all fours and turned around with his fat little butt pointed toward me. I got on my knees and looked at this virgin boyass. Not in my dreams, maybe, but virgin for real. I ran my hands over those smooth, soft buttcheeks. I pulled his cheeks aside and got a glimpse of a little pink hole. I worked his cheeks even wider, and there it was. His smooth, white skin. And in the center of him, that tiny pink pucker. The center of a boy, such a tiny hole. I touched it, and Roger sighed. I leaned in and licked at it. It was warm, tight, and smelled just like boy. I licked across his hole again and then worked my tongue around and around it. "Aw god, yessss... Eat me, Billy... Eat me, fuck meeee..." I pointed my tongue at the center of his tight entrance and shoved it until I could feel the pucker pulsing, resisting me. I spent some time licking around and across it, listening to the boy's moans of pleasure. Finally, I pressed my tongue at his fuckhole again, and I could feel that tight little rose begin to open for me. In just a little deeper... And I could taste his insides, the delicious tang of pure boy, boy aching for sex, boy needing cock. I ate deeper, and Roger's sounds began louder and desperate for more than a tongue. So I stood up, stroked my old cock a few times with spit on my fingers, and spread more spit around and in his his hole. His hole opened for my finger, and I could feel inside of him, the wetness of a boyass in heat. I set my cockhead at his asshole and began to push slowly. "Oh yessssss... put it in, Billy... fuck me with that big cock..." I pushed slowly and then realized the tightness was relaxing a bit; my cockhead slid in, and Roger howeled. "AW FUCK... fuck... awww... so big... hurts, Billy... don't stop don't stop don't stop..." I didn't. I forced my hard cock into his chubby ass as I listened to his cries of pain and his begging for more cock. I gave him more... and then more... Finally I was pressed tight against his big, soft ass. He began to sing another song, then! What I heard was the pure pleasure of a boy being pleased, boy being filled, boy getting fucked... And then I began a real fuck. I pulled back and pressed in again, feeling that tight boytunnel close after my cockhead pulled back through it, then forced open again as my cockhead plunged through it again. So hot in there... tight... fucking deep... And I felt my belly slapping up against that fat boyass as my cock rammed into him again and again. If he asked me to fuck him again, he must have loved it the first time. And this time, as I fucked him for real, he'd love it even more! I kept it slow for a while, slow and regular. Over and over, in and out. "Oh yeaaaaaa... O yeaaaaaa... Oh yeaaaaa..." Each time I hit bottom again, he hissed out his pleasure in his high, sweet voice. That little soprano voice, my grunts, and the slapping of my belly against his ass all made my old cock as hard as it's ever been... my balls aching for release like never before... needing to fill this young boy with my seed... faster and deeper... "Oh yeaaaaa... O yeaaaa..." It finally became one, long, high-pitched hiss of sheer pleasure as my hardness racing in and out. My grunts got louder, too. I felt it inside. I hadn't felt this way for years and years, the urgency to release, the pressure needing out, inside inside inside... deep in boypussy... "Uhhhhhhhhhhh..." My grunting became a deep, long gasp as my cock fed him again and again, shooting my hot cum into his hotter little ass... ... feeding his tight boypussy ...ah fuck yeaaaaa... so tight exploding with cum inside so tight... "Uhhhhhhhhh..." I think I shot harder and longer that I had in a long time. When my balls were empty, I felt a deep satisfaction and a sudden weakness at the same time. I feel down to my knees. The sight of his tight entrance, still pulsing and now leaking my cum, turned me on again, and I grabbed his thighs, pressed my face into him, and licked at his pucker, almost sucking my own seed out of him. I lapped at his hole like a dog at a water trough. Tasting my cum, his ass juices... I groaned and pulled back. With one hand on the floor and the other on the bed, I managed to pull myself up onto the matress. I lay down and then realized little Roger wasn't in the bed anymore. He was standing, still naked, next to the bed. He leaned down and kissed my cheek. He stroked my hair. "So good, Billy. I loved it. Your big cock feels so good inside. It makes me feel so... full. So good. I want more sometime, Billy." Before I could say anything, he turned, still naked, and walked out of my little room and into the store. I watched his fat butt bouncing. I waited for the bell to ring when he opened and closed it, and then I remembered that I'd locked the door. I walked out to unlock it for him -- my wet dick bouncing... And he wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere. I went back and laid down on my bed. I could't have imagined... dreamed .. that! I was awake. And I could smell him on my hand and lips. Taste him on my tongue. I put my hand up under my nose and laid there, the scent of boydick right where I could smell it... Then I fell asleep.