Date: Sun, 18 Nov 2018 22:35:01 +0000
From: eightxsixat14@protonmail.com
Subject: Is That The Milk? -  Chapter 2

As I mentioned at the beginning of chapter 1, this is my first attempt at
writing a story...real or fiction.  If the many responses I've received to
chapter 1 are to be believed, then I have succeeded in a big way.  I hadn't
anticipated receiving any comments, but now that I have, I see their value.
In the future when I read a hot, well-written story, I will let the author
know how much I liked it, which I now regret I have not done in the past.

According to Nifty's guidelines, boys having sex with boys can be any age,
but once a man is involved, the boy has to be 9 or older.  A number of my
readers are asking what age Brody was in my original story.  The answer is
6.

This work contains intimate sexual acts between men and boys for the
purpose of erotic fantasy.  I do not condone such acts in real life.  In
fact, I support all laws that outlaw such acts.  If reading such material
is illegal where you live, or if you personally find it offensive, please
do yourself and me a favor and do not read any farther.

Don't forget to donate to Nifty at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html.
Nifty receives a paltry $1 in donations for every 60,000 downloads!


IS THAT THE MILK?  Chapter 2

Brody and I were still in the chair I had collapsed into after he finished
sucking me off and swallowing my cum, or as he calls it, my "milk."  I was
still naked as the day I was born, and Brody was in my lap dressed in his
Spiderman pajamas.

I pulled Brody's head over onto my shoulder, and I kissed him on his
forehead with genuine affection.  With my feet on the ottoman, I gently
bounced and stroked him, so he would feel loved, so he would know that he
had done nothing wrong and that everything was going to be okay.  But while
I did this, my mind was racing with the revelation that my soulmate, the
love of my life, my beloved Peter, was feeding his son his cum.  This
knowledge certainly assuaged my feelings of guilt and betrayal to some
extent, but FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, was I ever shocked and confused!

I'm no fucking pervert.  Before tonight I had never once thought about
having sex with a minor.  And I didn't touch Brody sexually, did I?  Fuck
no; he had his pajamas on the whole time!  All I did was let him satisfy
his desire to suck my cock and swallow my load!  What harm is there in that
for Christ's sake?  I didn't touch him...all I did was stand there.  Well,
yes, I did cradle his head while I emptied the nectar from my heavy balls
into his sweet mouth, and, yes, I did show him how to position his hands on
the shaft of my cock, but I didn't make him do anything he didn't want to
do.  And I didn't touch his little cocklet and balls.  No sir-ee.  That's
not who I am.

But, yeah, I know the law.  What I did was wrong in the eyes of society and
the law, and I could be severely punished.  Something is wrong with the
fucking law.  It should be there for sexual predators, men and women who
prey on minors and force them to have sex with them against their will, who
penetrate their bodies and hurt them physically and psychologically.  Those
are the monsters.  That is what the law should be all about.  It should
have nothing to do with what Brody and I just did.  He is obviously a gay
boy.  You don't suck cock or swallow cum so eagerly unless you're gay.  He
is just getting an early start on the kind of sex he is destined to have
for the remainder of his life.

But, no matter how much I rationalize the situation, I know I could get
into big trouble.... BIG trouble for the servicing I received only minutes
ago from the mouth of the sweet boy now in my lap, from Brody, a 9-year-old
boy who clearly likes cock and cum, and who happens to be the son of my
life-partner, Peter.

Yes, Peter, my beloved Peter whose seemingly pedophilic shoes I now share.
Christ, this can't be happening!  It must be a bad dream.  What possessed
Peter to have sex with his own son?  How did that come about?  When did
that first occur, and how many times has it occurred?  Did it happen once
and will never happen again, or is it ongoing?  Did the sex only go as far
as it had with Brody and me, or did he perhaps suck Brody's little cocklet?
Or rim his little boypussy?  Or, heaven forbid, fuck the boy.  I pray not
for I would have a lot of trouble with that.  But wait a minute...Peter
isn't into fucking; he wouldn't do that, especially not with a boy, not
with his own son.  But what do I know?  Maybe Peter has fucked him, and
perhaps Brody loved it.  I would like to ask Brody these questions, but he
has enough on his mind right now, not knowing how I am going to deal with
the fact that I know he has sucked his father off and eaten his load, or as
he thinks of it, his Daddy's milk.  Besides, I can tell that he is drifting
off in my arms as I wrestle with all the scary unknowns.

Clearly, I need to address these questions with Peter.  I don't want to
confront him when he gets home in the middle of the night.  He'll be
exhausted, and neither of us would sleep the rest of the night.  I `ll wait
until after he gets up tomorrow, Saturday.  I will see to it that Brody is
over at Danny's house playing.  I will ask Steve and Paula to keep him
there for the afternoon as Peter and I have some important business we must
tend to.  Important!  Shit!  This is the most critical situation we've had
to face in our entire relationship.  Is Peter a true pedophile?  Has he
been hiding that from me all these years?  No...that makes no sense.  This
man is my soulmate.  I know him, and he is no pedophile.  I'm mostly
worried as to how he will deal with the fact that his lover, his most
trusted friend in the world, engineered getting sucked off by his son.
Could this break us up?  I know I could promise never to let Brody suck me
off again and stick to that promise.  Could Peter do the same?

But then if Brody enjoys sucking us off and would be unhappy if he could
never do it again, would we deny him that innocent pleasure?  INNOCENT!
Good God, Tom, but you are not thinking clearly!

Brody is now asleep.  Clumsily, awkwardly because he is in my arms, I get
out of that overstuffed chair, and carry him to his room, and put him in
his bed, tucking the covers up under his chin.  He looks so young, so
sweet, and oh so innocent.  I look at those pouty lips, lips that less than
30 minutes ago were wrapped around the thick shaft of my cock, and it
doesn't seem possible that that could have happened.  In the course of an
evening, my life has changed forever.  I am now a pedophile because of what
I did with this beautiful boy that I love so much.  I lean over and kiss
him gently on the lips as I have done a million times, but this time there
is a difference...his breath smells of cum...my cum...my milk.  Brody's
breath smells of Papa's milk and his stomach is full of Papa's milk.  As I
look at that beautiful boy, my cock starts to stir, and I can feel a wad of
precum moving through my cockhead.  I'm still totally naked.  I haven't had
a second to slip on my pants since Brody sucked me off.  Impulsively, I
grasp the headboard of Brody's bed with one hand, and, leaning over, I
gently wipe my cockhead across his lips just as the precum flows out.
Instinctively, and without waking, his tongue appears and wipes up the
precum.  I look at that beautiful sleeping face, and I softly ask, "Will
you ever be able to taste my precum and cum again, Sweet Boy?  I don't
know.  It all depends on how my conversation with your father turns out."

I returned to the living room and picked up the Gibson that I had started
earlier.  It was now at room temperature, and I finished it off in one big
swig.  While chewing on the cocktail onion, I walked around the house in a
daze turning off the lights as I went.  Bed brought little relief.  I
tossed and turned for a couple of hours, thinking of how I would confront
Peter, how I would frame my questions, how I would respond depending on
what he had to say, and how I would make my own confession.  And, of
course, I thought of that amazing orgasm, of pumping my hot, thick man-milk
into little Brody's mouth...a 10-plus without question.

Sleep that night was not good.  I recall Peter arriving home around 2 in
the morning, showering, crawling into bed behind me, and quickly settling
down to sleep.  I feigned sleep, although I briefly considered confronting
him then and there, but, no, I knew tomorrow afternoon would be the better
time because we would be rested, and Brody would be out of the house.  More
asleep than awake, Peter snuggled up close to me, and somehow, I felt
reassured that it would all work out okay, and I fell asleep.

I got up at 6 am as I normally do.  I was tired, but ready to face this
difficult day.  I peed, splashed cold water in my eyes, brushed my teeth,
and put on my robe and slippers...my usual Saturday morning routine.  I
went into the family room where Brody was sitting on the floor watching
cartoons.

"Good morning, Brody, how are you today?"  I was genuinely concerned.

Swinging his whole body from the waist to look at me, he said, "I'm okay,
Papa.  Is Daddy home?"  Last night was apparently a distant memory.

"Yes, of course, but you know he won't be getting out of bed until around
noon.  Brody, I want to talk to you for a couple of minutes...about last
night."

No response.  I sat in the big overstuffed chair, and said, "Come here,
Brody, sit in my lap for a minute."

He complied, sitting on my left thigh, and I pulled him close in a hug,
kissed him on the forehead, and said, "You know I love you, don't you?"

"Yes," again said as if I asked the dumbest of questions.

"Last night you sucked my cock, er, I should say, my penis.  And you
accidentally let me know that you have sucked your daddy's penis."

At that he winced.  "Are you going to tell him?"

"I have to, Brody, but I promise you, he won't get mad at you or hurt you
in any way.  You have my promise.  I'm going to send you over to play with
Danny before your daddy gets up, and I will ask Mr. and Mrs. Britting if
you can stay with them for the afternoon.  I will talk to your Daddy when
you are not here.  But I need to know something now, Brody, and it's
important.  And it's important that you tell me the truth.  Okay? "

"Okay," he said, mumbling softly.

"How many times have you sucked your father's penis and swallowed his
Daddy's milk?"

"Once."

"Only once?

"Yeah."

 "Oh...well...I'm glad to hear that.  That is a bit of a relief," talking
more to myself than to Brody.  "How long ago did that happen?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know."

"Well, was it a year ago, a month ago, a week ago?"

"I don't know."  A 9-year-old's sense of time isn't very good.

"Well, was it before I went to Dallas for a week on business or was it
after?"

"Yes," he said excitedly, "it was when you were gone."

"Well, I've been back for two weeks now, so it happened two to three weeks
ago.  Is that right?"

"Yeah," he said.  Suddenly I understood Peter's mood the past couple of
weeks.  Brody sucked him off, and he is now filled with guilt and remorse.
"Ah-hah," I thought.  "Now I understand."  That knowledge was good, but in
an odd sort of way.

"One more thing, Sport: Did you do anything else with your Daddy?  I mean
did he touch your penis at all?  Did he touch your anus in any way?"

"No," he stated emphatically, with a "Why would he do that?" expression on
his face.  "I just wanted to give him pleasure and drink his milk."

"Well, I'm sure he enjoyed it.  If you sucked him as wonderfully as you did
me last night, then you gave him lots and lots of pleasure."  I did not
want him to feel bad in any way about what he had done.

He beamed at that, but then said, "But Daddy is mad that I sucked on his
penis, an he says that we can never do it again, an that makes me sad.  I
like sucking his penis Papa, and I like sucking your penis an I want to do
it again an again. That was really fun.  I like it when your Daddy's milk
shoots out."

"Damn it," I thought, as my cock twitched in response to his words.  "His
talking like that is giving me a hard-on, and all I have on is my robe, and
he is sitting on my lap."  But I knew that I wouldn't allow him to suck me
off again before I had a chance to talk to his father, and maybe not ever
again.

"You are getting hard, Papa," he said laughing.  And before I knew what was
happening, he jumped off my lap, reached under my robe and grabbed my
throbbing cock.  "Please let me suck it now, Papa," He pleaded.

I shoved his hand off.  "Brody, no, I'm sorry, we can't.  I shouldn't have
let you suck me last night.  You did nothing wrong, but in the eyes of
other people, in the eyes of the police, it was very wrong.  I must talk to
your father.  We may decide that we can never do that again."

"Please, he said sadly, "just one more time.  Daddy will say I can never
suck him or you again.  I know it."

"We'll see," I said as I adjusted my cock between my legs and covered it
with my robe.  "There is something else that is very important, Brody.  You
can never tell anyone what you did with your Daddy or me.  If you told your
best friend, Danny, what happened, or your new friend around the corner,
what's his name?"

"Orson," Brody replied.

"Yes, Orson, you can't tell him or anyone, because they might tell their
mommy or daddy or teacher who might then tell the police, and then your
Daddy and I would get into big trouble.  You would be taken away from us,
and we would go to prison and never see you again.  You know that that
would kill both of us.  We love you so much and want to be your daddies,
and we want to raise you until you are an adult.  So, you see, it is
extremely important that you tell nobody, not your best friend, not your
teacher, not your mother...nobody.  Do you understand how important this
is?"

"Yes," he said with exasperation in his voice.  I won't tell nobody."

"Okay then, how about I get us some breakfast?"

As I stood up, he reached for my penis through my robe and managed to grasp
a hold of it.

"Brody, no, please, no more of that now."  And I shoved his hand away.

"Aw, shucks," he said, looking as if he had just been denied a second piece
of his favorite chocolate cake.

I can't say I wasn't tempted to have an encore performance, but common
sense prevailed.  -------------------- By the time Peter got up around
noon, Brody was over at Steve and Paula Britting's house playing with
Danny.  I was dressed in shorts, tank top, and sandals when Peter came out
freshly shaved and wearing Levis, a polo shirt, and slippers.  In case I
didn't mention it before, Peter is an Adonis, at least I think so.  I was
struck by his movie-star good-looks when I first saw him across the room at
a cocktail party almost 6 years ago, and I get turned on every time I look
at him.  He's a couple of inches shorter than me, about 6 feet tall, and
beautifully proportioned.  He may not sport the 6-pack I do, but, even so,
his torso is masculine, and I think sexy.  He has wavy blond hair almost to
his shoulders that he fusses over constantly.  We have spent a fortune on
expensive shampoos, conditioners, and mousses, not to mention the expensive
monthly visits to our hairdresser.  His body is hairier than mine, but
being blond, you wouldn't think so.  I love seeing his lightly tanned naked
body in the full sun because his body hair shimmers in the sunlight,
framing his body in a warm glow.  His eyes are bluer than blue.

Between Peter and me, no one would ever question which of us is Brody's
father, for Brody very much takes after his father.  Should he someday take
after his father in the cock department, he will be one lucky young man
indeed.  Peter's erect cock isn't as thick as mine, and it is a bit
shorter, but it is a thing of beauty.  It looks like it was carved out of
alabaster...white and smooth and perfectly straight with a large mushroom
head, similar to mine.  His foreskin almost completely covers his cockhead
when he is soft, but it fully retracts with minimal help when he is erect.
He trimmed his pubes at one time, but I complained so much that he let it
all grow back.  I prefer a man in his natural state.  His balls are as big
as mine, but they are in a sac that clings pretty much to the base of his
cock.  Overall, his cock and balls are a quite stunning package, but then
I'm smitten.

Why am I telling you all this?  I guess because I want you to know what a
lucky guy I am to have such a gorgeous man as my life-partner and soulmate.
It makes the fact that Brody wanted to suck him off, all the more
understandable.  Peter could have sex with a different man every night if
he wanted, as I could for that matter, but thank God that isn't what either
of us want and thank God for our commitment to each other...except we both
seem to have slipped with Brody.  I've got to get to the bottom of how
Brody came to suck off his father.

I gave Peter a big hug and asked him how he was.

"I'm okay," he said lackadaisically.  "How are you and Brody doing?"

"Brody is next door at the Britting's.  He's already had his lunch, and, as
you can see, I have our brunch almost ready.  Here, have a cup of coffee
and there's the paper.  I'll have our meal ready in a second."

"What's the occasion?  It looks like you're doing Eggs Benedict.  You
usually do your special breakfast on Sunday, not Saturday.  What gives?"

"Well, you haven't been feeling well lately, and I just want to do
something special for you."

"Aren't you the sweet one?  I know, I've been horrible lately.  I'm sorry,
Sweetheart.  You have been most understanding.  Why don't I make it up to
you?  Why don't we ask Steve and Paula if they will watch Brody this
afternoon, and we will have ourselves a sex fest?"  He said with a twinkle
in his eye.  I've ignored you far too long.

"I've already asked them, and they have agreed."

"Well, aren't you the sly one?  You don't think that you were being a bit
presumptuous?  Never mind.  I'm feeling much better today for some reason,
and I want that beautiful cock of yours in my mouth."

"Shut up," I said jokingly.  "Let's get this fabulous meal down first."
And I kissed him in a way that only teased and promised more.  But, I'm
thinking, "How am I going to bring up the matter with Brody, and how is it
going to go?"  My stomach immediately tightened, and I had to work to get
down the Eggs Benedict, juice, and fresh fruit bowl.  But I did.  I wanted
everything to be as normal as possible until I entered what I knew was
probably going to be the most difficult discussion of our lives together.

----------

Getting up from the table, Peter put his arms around me and said, "I will
keep my promise of hot sex today; I am very much looking forward to it.  I
love you so much, Tom, but I think we should wait at least an hour.  If I
were to deep throat that thick cock of yours now, I would bring this big
breakfast up all over everything, and I know we don't want that.  You
agree?"

"Of course, silly, hot sex on a full stomach never works.  And we have
until 4 pm before we have to pick up Brody.  Besides, there is something I
want to talk to you about.  Let's take our coffees into the living room."

"Oh, oh," Peter said with a laugh, "I don't like the sound of that."

We sat on the sofa side-by-side, and I turned us toward each other, each
with our nearest leg pulled up onto the sofa and our nearest arms
interlocked on the back of the sofa.  With my heart quickly picking up
speed and my breathing becoming more noticeable, I said, "You know Peter,
that you and Brody are the two most important people in my life."

"Of course," Peter replied, "what is this Tom?  What's going on?  You're
scaring me."

"Damn, I'm sorry, Peter, I'll just jump right in.  I know about you and
Brody.  I know that Brody has sucked you off."  Peter's eyes grew huge
beneath a deep and profound frown.  He didn't believe what he was hearing.

Before he could say anything, I continued, "Don't blame Brody; he didn't
mean to tell me.  It was an accident, and he feels awful.  I promised him
that you wouldn't get mad at him.  It is okay, Peter, I don't hate you for
doing this.  But I do need for you to tell me how it happened."

I had more to say, but before I could Peter jumped up, and said, "What are
you talking about?  What the fuck is this?  Why would Brody tell you such
an awful thing?  I must talk to him.  I should go get him now and talk to
him.  Surely you don't believe him, Tom.  Why in the world would I ever let
Brody suck me?  Jesus Christ, I don't believe this."

Before he could say anymore, I got to my feet and faced him, and held him
by his arms, and said, "Peter, it is okay, and I believe Brody because he
sucked me off last night and swallowed my cum, or Daddy's milk as he calls
it."  I pulled Peter to me in an embrace, right ear to right ear, and said,
"It's okay, Baby, it's okay.  He has sucked us both off and feasted on our
cum, and now we have to talk about it.  How do we handle this?  Where do we
go from here?  I now understand why you have been so distant and troubled
the past two weeks.  Of course, you were troubled.  I am too right now.
I'm confused and worried about how we are going to deal with this
incredible situation."

Before I could say more, Peter started shaking.  He was crying.  He held me
tight as if his life depended on it, and he cried hard.  He was clearly
releasing a lot of pent up emotion.

I couldn't take his crying.  It is not possible to watch your soulmate cry,
to know that he is hurting, and not cry with him.  We stood there in the
middle of the room and sobbed loudly in each other's arms...for a long
time.  Finally, Peter gently pushed away from me, and I could see tears and
snot running down his face, and I must have looked much the same.  We
looked at each other and chuckled at the mess we were both in, and we
headed for the guest bathroom where we cleaned ourselves up with a box of
tissues.

After returning to the sofa, Peter looked me in the eyes, and said, "I'm so
glad you know, Tom.  It has been killing me this last two weeks since it
happened.  I've been confused and scared...actually terrified.  I knew it
was wrong, so very wrong, and I was so afraid of losing you if you knew,
and losing Brody, and losing my life as I know it.  I've been going crazy,
Tom."  And he started to cry again, but then he shook it off, and again,
looking directly at me, said accusatorially, but with a grin, "And what is
this about you and Brody?  He told you he sucked me, so you wanted to get
some action too?"

"No, no, Peter, it wasn't like that at all.  I want to tell you exactly
what happened, then I want you to tell me exactly how Brody happened to
suck you off.  Deal?"

"Yeah, deal.  I want to hear every detail.  Don't spare me anything, and I
promise you I will tell exactly how it happened between us.  I want you to
know.  I desperately need for you to know, Tom.  Let me get us refills on
the coffee, then I want to hear it all."

So, after he returned with the refills, I told him the story.  The
identical story I told you, my readers, in Part I of this brief series.
Well, maybe not exactly.  I may have left out some of the more colorful
adjectives.  For example, `...as I pumped my thick, hot cum into that
amazing little boy's mouth,' may have come out `...as I came in his
mouth.'  I forget, but I do know that I told him the truth.  Oh, yeah, I
left out the bit where I wiped my precum-dripping hard-on on Brody's lips
as he slept.  What would be accomplished by telling him that?  Besides, I'm
not particularly proud of that.

When I finished the story, Peter looked at me and said, "I understand
perfectly, Tom, and you will understand my situation when I tell you how
Brody managed to suck me off.  And, damn, damn-it Tom, but that story was
hot.  Look at me," and he exposed his gorgeous cock that he had been
hiding, now fully erect and dripping precum.  "I have a god-damn erection.
What the hell does that say about me?  My lover tells me my 9-year-old son
sucked him off and ate his jizz, and I fucking get a hard-on!"

At that, I exposed my own hard-on that I too had been hiding beneath a
handful of Kleenex.  We both laughed and fell into each other's arms.
Peter started to kiss me passionately, but I stopped him, saying, "Not so
soon Peter.  You're not off the hook yet.  It's time for you to tell me
your story, and I want to hear every single colorful detail.  I told you
what happened as best as I could remember it; now it is your turn to do the
same."

"Shucks," he said with a wink.  "What a waste of perfectly good hard-ons.
But sure, I understand.  Like I said, I want you to know every detail."