Date: Fri, 23 Nov 2018 22:21:22 +0000
From: eightxsixat14@protonmail.com
Subject: Is That The Milk?  Chapter 3

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.  In my original
story Brody 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.


is-that-the-milk-3


"So here is how it happened," and Peter began telling me his story, the
story of how his 9-year-old son, Brody, happened to suck him off and feast
on his cum.  "It was the week you were in Dallas on business.  It was a
Saturday night, and you had been gone 5 or 6 days.  Needless to say, I was
horny as hell.  I don't offer that as an excuse for what happened, but I
think it played a role, that and alcohol, especially alcohol, as you will
see.

"Steve and Paula were outside when Brody, Danny, and I returned from
playing miniature golf.  Earlier, before leaving, I asked Steve, Paula, and
Danny if they would like to join us, but Steve and Paula had a prior
commitment with Paula's mother.  They said that Danny could join us if he
wanted, and of course he did."

"They knew of course that you were gone, Tom, and they were planning to
barbecue hamburgers in their backyard, just the three of them, but they
wondered if Brody and I would like to join them.  I hesitated as I was
looking forward to a quiet evening.  To be honest with you, I thought I
would put Brody to bed early, put on a porno flick in our bedroom, and
relieve some of the tension that had built up in your absence.  But Brody
kept pleading, 'Please Daddy, please Daddy,' and I figured that I could
still do the porno thing after the barbecue, and the thought of not cooking
dinner won me over.  So, we joined them around 5 pm."

"Well, you know Steve and Paula, Tom, they drink like fish and make sure
that everyone always has a drink in his hand.  Unfortunately, the drink of
choice this evening was Pisco Sour, something they had picked up on their
recent trip to Peru.  Steve prided himself on his ability to make a Pisco
Sour every bit as well as the Peruvians, and he made them nonstop that
evening.  The only problem is that they are delicious, and you have no
concept of how much alcohol you are consuming.  I honestly don't know how
many I had, but even with two hamburgers in my belly, my head was reeling
when we left their place around 9 pm."

"I see," I said.  "Excuse number 1: You were super horny because I was out
of town; almost makes it my fault, doesn't it?  And excuse number 2: You
were drunk."

"Come on, Tom, it wasn't like that at all.  Or maybe it was," he said with
a quizzical look on his face.  "Come on, baby, let me have my
rationalizations, okay?  I have felt horrible about what happened.  You
have no idea the hell I have been putting myself through.  I need some
excuses to hang on to."

"You don't need any more excuses than I do, Peter.  We're both in the same
muddleÉnow, on with your story.  I'll try not to interrupt."

"Well, I did enjoy myself with Steve and Paula and was glad I had accepted
their invitation.  Brody spent most of the time upstairs in Danny's bedroom
with him and Orson, the new boy from up the street.  I think he is a year
younger than Brody and Danny, but they seem to get along great and have
been spending a lot of time together lately."

Once home, I told Brody he could skip his bath (I didn't want to be
bothered) and to put on his pajamas and get into bed, that I was going to
shower, and I would be in to kiss him goodnight in a few minutes.  So, I
took a quick shower, put on my robe, tucked Brody in bed and turned out his
light.  Returning to our bedroom, I locked the door and put a porno flick
in the DVD player and crawled into bed.  Actually, I laid on top of the
blanket.  I was naked of course.  I was 10 minutes or so into the flick,
pinching my nipples and stroking my raging hard-on, when there was a knock
on the door.  Of course, it was Brody, and I was startled and annoyed.  I
grabbed the remote and turned off the flick.  I had the volume low, so I
don't think he'd heard any of the steamy dialogue.  Our conversation went
something like this:

"Yes, Brody, what is it."

"Daddy, can I come in.  I can't sleep.  Can I sleep with you?"

"Daddy is very tired, Brody.  We had a good day today at the Miniature Golf
place and next-door tonight.  I think you should go back to bed and try
again to go to sleep."

"There was a slight pause and then he spoke in a barely audible whine.  'I
told you I can't sleep.  Can I sleep with you?'"

What was I to do?  I decided to negotiate, but not through the bedroom
door.

"Brody, wait just a minute.  Don't open the door until I tell you to."  I
jumped out of bed and unlocked the door and then jumped back into the bed
and pulled up the covers.  My hard-on was near gone by this time, but it
was dripping precum on my thighs as I ran back and forth, so I grabbed the
cum towel I had brought to bed earlier and wiped up the precum.  I left the
towel draped over and around my cock in case there was more leakage.

"Okay, Brody, come on in."

Well, he opened the door and, happy as a lark, ran in, jumped on the bed,
and before I could stop him, he lifted the covers and quickly scooted under
them.  "You're naked," he said, surprised.  On the few occasions, he has
shared our bed before, Tom, we have at least had our underpants on, but
because of my plans to jerk off, I wasn't wearing any.  Besides, the sheet
and blanket were pulled up under my arms, and I didn't intend for him to be
there in the first place.

"Listen, Brody, you can't spend the night here.  I will read to you for 15
or 20 minutes, and then you must go back to your own bed.  Understand?"

"Yes," he said, as if that was completely satisfactory.

"Well, grab one of your books out of the nightstand."  I propped myself up
on several pillows and turned on the reading light.  He picked "Harry
Potter and the Deathly Hallows."  "Okay, scoot up here," I said.  He
positioned himself under the covers to my right, partially on his left side
with his head in the crook of my arm.  You know the position, Tom; we have
both read to him like that many times.  Well I began reading, and Brody
began to lightly stroke my chest and abdomen.  I thought nothing of it
because he has done that many times, and frankly it felt terrific.  He
clearly likes the feel of my chest hairs running through his fingers.  It
felt like a very loving gesture.  Hell, you know what I'm talking about,
Tom.  I've seen him do the same to you, and I never heard you complain.

I continued reading to him, but then things started to get a little weird.
He started to lick and suck my nipple, my right nipple, the one nearest
him.  I quickly said, "Whoa, Brody, what are you doing?"

"Nothing," he said with a bit of a boyish giggle.

"Well, yes you are doing something.  You're licking and sucking my nipple."

"Does it feel good, Daddy?"

"Well, yes, but why are you doing that?"

"Because I want to give you pleasure.  Orson says his Daddy likes it."

"Orson, the new boy down the street?"

"Uh-huh."

"He told you that he licks and sucks his Daddy's nipples?"

"Uh-huh.  He says he does it when his Daddy reads to him.  Please Daddy, I
want to make you feel good."

Well, had I been completely sober, I'm sure I would have refused.  But it
did feel good, and I figured if the father of one of his buddy's lets his
son do that to him, well, that it couldn't hurt anything, so I said, "Okay
Brody, you can do it, but only this one time, and don't tell anybody.
Okay?"

"Okay," he responded, and he resumed licking and sucking my right nipple.
It felt incredible.  You know, Tom, how that drives me crazy.  There is a
direct connection between my nipples and my dick, and after a couple of
minutes of his ministrations, my hard-on returned with a vengeance.  I
raised my knees to hide it, and that resulted in the sheet and blanket
being drawn lower, down to just above my navel.  Then Brody added a twist,
literally, a twist.  He started playing with my left nipple with his right
hand while he continued sucking on my right nipple.  He gently twisted it
and pulled on it, rather expertly I might say.  It felt incredible, but I
couldn't shake the feeling that it was wrong.

"Brody," I asked him, "did someone teach you how to do that?"

"No, Orson told me how to do it.  Does it feel good; does it give you
pleasure?"

"Yes, sweetheart it does, but what's with this 'pleasure' business?  I
think you had better stop now.  You can rub my chest and belly though.
That gives me pleasure too."

"Just a couple more minutes, please, Daddy.  I like doing it, and I want
you to have pleasure."  This was clearly something new, Brody wanting to
give me "pleasure," his word.  Obviously, something he picked up from
Orson.

So, I relented, and while I read, he continued his oral ministrations on my
right nipple, and his right hand, which had been busy on my left nipple,
began to circle lower and lower on my abdomen until his fingers were poking
into my pubic hair.  I was having a hard time concentrating on Harry Potter
with all this sensory stimulation to my chest and abdomen.  Then, suddenly,
his hand shot down my belly until the tip of a finger or two hit the base
of my erection.  I immediately grabbed him by the wrist and moved his hand
up to my chest, and said, "Your hand is getting just a little bit low there
isn't it buddy?  I think it best if you keep it above my belly button.
What do you think?"

He sat up a bit on his left elbow and looked me in the eyes and said, "Can
I ask you a question, Daddy?"

"Of course, Sweetheart, you know you can always ask me anything, anything
at all.  What is it?"

And then he knocked me off my feet.  Well, I was off my feet, but had I
been standing, well, you know what I mean.  He asked, "Does your penis get
big and hard sometimes?"

Tom, this boy is only 6.  What is he doing asking me a question like that?
For a minute or so I was lost for words.  But then I said, "I will answer
that question, Brody.  I will always answer your questions honestly, but
first, you have to be honest with me and tell me why you are asking that
question."

"Because Orson says his Daddy's penis gets big and hard sometimes.  He says
it's huge.  Does yours do that, Daddy?  Does it get big and hard?"

"Brody, Brody, you amaze me sometimes," I said with exasperation.  "Well,
let's see now, you know how your penis gets bigger and harder sometimes?
Of course, you do.  I've seen your penis many times since you were born,
and most of the time it is small and soft, and other times it is big and
hard.  Well, it is the same thing with men.  Most of the time a man's penis
is small and soft, but sometimes it gets big and hard."

"Orson says his Daddy's penis gets super big and hard, not small like a
boy's."

It seemed like a good time to offer a little education.  "Well, Brody, when
you get to be about 11 or 12 your penis and balls will start growing
bigger, and by the time you are 15, you will probably have a full,
man-sized penis.  Mine was full size by the time I was 14.  So, to answer
your question, yes, my penis does get big and hard sometimes."  Little did
he know that it was big and hard at that very moment.  I could feel the
precum leaking out into the hand towel that was wrapped around it.

And then, as if the situation couldn't get any more difficult for me, he
hurls another zinger.  "Can I see it, Daddy?  Can I see your penis big and
hard?"  As you can imagine, my head was spinning by this time.

"Brody, Brody, what has gotten into you?  Daddies don't show their sons
their erections; it just isn't done."

"Recshuns, what's that?"

"EÉrecÉtion," I said, sounding out the word syllable by syllable.
"That is what it is called when a boy's or a man's penis gets big and hard;
it is called an 'erection.'  You boys probably call it a 'boner' or
'hard-on,' and that's okay if you call it that.  Just don't call it that
around your mother, or teacher, or anybody but your buddies or Papa and me.
Understand?"

"Please, Daddy, let me see your 'recÉtion.  Orson has seen his Daddy's
'recÉtion."

"Oh, I don't think so, son.  Did Orson tell you he'd seen his father's
erection?"

"Yes, a lot.  Just me hasn't," said in a pleading, sorrowful tone.
"Please, Daddy.  You and Papa told me we shouldn't be 'shamed of our naked
body.  Are you 'shamed of your penis?"

Damn!  He had me there.  It's true, you and I, Tom, have discussed how we
were going to bring Brody up with a healthy outlook on sex, that he should
never think that his penis or masturbation or anything else related to the
normal functioning of the human body was dirty or sinful as we were brought
up to believe.  As you know, Tom, when my mother saw me with an erection in
the bathtub when I was 5-years-old, she said that meant I had been playing
with myself, that I was a naughty boy, and I must never do that again.
That brief statement negatively affected my whole life!  I promised God
that I would never touch my penis again, but, of course, I broke that
promise daily, I prayed and prayed for my erections to go down, but, of
course, they never did.  I lived in torment for years and years believing I
was going to burn in hell for having erections.

You and I talked about not letting that sort of thing happen to Brody.  So
here I was doing everything I could not to let Brody see me with an
erection, a perfectly natural state of the human body.  Orson had seen his
Daddy's erection, many times apparently, and here I was denying my son the
opportunity to see the same thing.  I suddenly felt like a jerk.  So, I
scooted down in bed somewhat, threw the sheet and blanket down to my knees,
straightened out my legs, and with my head turned away from Brody, I said,
"Okay, son, there's my erection, my bigger, harder penis.  Take the towel
off it if you want to see it."  My cock was at a 45-degree angle, pointing
slightly toward my head, and covered with the hand towel.  I wasn't
looking, but I knew all Brody could see was the tented hand towel.

"Wow," he said, and he immediately jumped over my right leg and squeezed
into the space between my legs, forcing me to open them wider to
accommodate him.  I felt the towel being lifted and tossed to my side.
Silence, then, "Awesome, Daddy, Awesome!  It's huge!"  His voice was filled
with wonder and pride.

My ego suddenly got involved, and I had to see what he was seeing.  I
raised myself up onto my elbows and looked at my cock and at the look of
awe on Brody's face.  I must say I had a great sense of pride at that
moment, seeing how impressed Brody was with my equipmentÉthe very
equipment that shot him into this world.

"I bet your penis is bigger than Mr. Jacobs'," he said with some assurance.

"Mr. Jacobs?  Is that Orson's father?"  I asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, maybe," I responded, "but we will never know.  Some men have smaller
penises than mine, and some men have bigger penises than mine.  They come
in all sizes."  I thought about telling him, Tom, that your penis was
thicker than mine.  I didn't, but I guess he knows that now, huh?"

I was thinking that it was past time to pull up the blanket and end this
bizarre father-son educational session when he reached out with his right
hand and firmly grasped a hold of the shaft of my cock.  I flinched, but I
was now determined to see this "educational encounter" through, albeit as
quickly as possible.  I must admit, Tom, that seeing his little hand grasp
my erect cock, unable to get his fingers all the way around it, well, it
was fucking hot, and I hated myself for finding it so.  But I feel better
now knowing that you felt the same way when he first grabbed ahold of your
cock.

I asked him, barely able to control my breathing, "What are you doing,
Brody?"

"I just want to see how hard it is," and he squeezed it, then gripped it in
several different places up and down the shaft.  When he squeezed my
cockhead, he said, "Oooh, that's squishy."  Just then I felt a blob of
precum move through my cockhead and out my piss slit, threatening to run
down my cock.  I grabbed the hand towel and quickly wiped it off before it
could run.  Brody, wide-eyed, had moved his head closer to get a better
look.

"Was that precum, Daddy?"

Holy Shit, I'm thinking, how does he know about precum?  Before I could ask
him, apparently reading my mind, he said, "Orson told me about precum.  He
said it looks like water.  He said his Daddy makes a lot of it."

Okay, this was beginning to sound really weirdÉthe situation between
Orson and his father.  It is one thing for Orson to see his father's
erection, I could imagine a situation where that might occur accidentally,
but quite another for him to see his father's precum.  But I was too wasted
to think any more about that just then.  My priority was to end this
extraordinary father-son, sex-education session as soon as possible.

But, before I could act, I was stopped in my tracks by the pleasant feeling
of Brody gently feeling my balls with his left hand as he still gripped my
cock with his other hand.  "Gee, Daddy, your balls are really big too.
Will my balls get that big some day?"

"I'm sure they will, Brody, maybe they will even be a bit bigger.  Well,
have you satisfied your curiosity, son?  You wanted to see my erection, and
you have now seen it.  And you even touched it.  And you saw my balls, and
you touched them.  It's time now to go to bed and go to sleep.  Okay?"

"Oh, please, Daddy, just a couple more minutes," and he started stroking my
cock with his right hand while continuing to feel my balls with his left.
And, I'm sorry, Tom, but it felt heavenly.  But it was wrong, terribly
wrong, and I knew it.  You have no idea how conflicted I was.  Then he
gently squeezed my balls and asked, "Do you make Daddy's milk here?"

Do I make Daddy's milk in my balls?  Good God, he's talking about semen,
about cum, and he's just a baby himself!  I still had my body raised on my
elbows where I could see his every move and the expressions on his face,
but I suddenly felt overwhelmed by the enormity of what he was saying and
doing.  I dropped back on the bed and put my hands over my eyes and tried
to think clearly.  Without uncovering my eyes, I said, "I suppose Orson
told you his Daddy's balls make Daddy's milk, is that right."

"Yes, can I see your Daddy's milk?  Please, Daddy, please?  Orson says it
shoots out of the end of his Daddy's penis if he does this," and he gripped
my penis more firmly and began stroking it in earnest.  Being
uncircumcised, it was easy for him to slide the skin up over my cockhead
and all the way down to my crinkly pubes.  It felt out of this world, Tom.
I had gone to bed terribly horny, and I desperately needed to bust a nut,
but I knew it was wrong.  But fuck!  It felt so damn good, and I guess I
thought that another minute wouldn't hurt.  As he got the feel of it, he
picked up speed a bit.  I didn't know what to do, so I just lay there
soaking up the incredible feelings that were permeating my groin.

It was about then that I lost all control.  My eyes shut, I suddenly
envisioned Orson, who as you know is an adorable, well-behaved boy of no
more than 5-years-old, jacking off his father, who is a damn good-looking
man in his late 20s.  We have only met him a couple of times, Tom, and we
later joked, remember, that it would be nice if we could get him in bed
between us some time, that he would be the perfect person for our first
three-way.  Of course, we didn't know if he was gay or straight at the
time.

Well, Tom, that mental image of Orson stroking his father's erect cock, and
the reality of Brody, my 6-year-old son, on his knees between my legs
jacking me off that very moment so he could see my cum, or as he called it,
'Daddy's milk,' caused me to go over the top.  The fact that I was
extremely horny and truly wasted had something to do with it too, I'm sure.
Whatever the reasons, Tom, I can tell you that the feeling of ejaculatory
inevitability built fast, faster than I can ever remember it building
before.  There was no stopping it; and shit, to tell you the truth, I
didn't want to stop it.  I remember saying with resignation in my voice,
"Well Brody, you are going to get your wish; I'm going to cum, I'm going to
shoot my Daddy's cum, er, my Daddy's milkÉOh fuck yeah, babyÉdon't
stop what you are doing, keep doing thatÉyes, exactly like that.  Oh,
shit, I'm going to cum baby.  Get ready, sweetheart, here it comesÉoh
fuckÉoh, fuckÉmy 6-year-old son is jacking me offÉoh, my
GodÉoh, my GodÉ"

My eyes were tightly closed as the pumping began.  My body stiffened and
arched slightly as my heels dug into the bed and my hands grabbed handfuls
of the bedding beneath me.  I could feel the first blast of hot jism hit my
chin and the second land on my chest, but then, shockingly, jarringly, I
felt a hot moist mouth engulf the head of my cock just as I shot out the
third blast.  The realization that Brody, my son, was taking my cock and my
cum in his mouth was enough for me to instantly get back up on my elbows so
I could see the unfathomable.

There was Brody sucking on about a third of my cock while his right hand
continued to stroke the remaining two-thirds in unison with his bobbing
head, and I must have shot 4 or 5 more powerful blasts into his mouth,
saying aloud, talking to myself, "Holy Fuck, Peter, you're shooting your
thick, hot cum into your little boy's mouth, and he is loving it."  And to
Brody I continued, "Oh, yeah, take it Brody, take your Daddy's hot load.
I'm filling your mouth, baby, with my thick cum...my Daddy's milk.  Oh, my
God, oh my God, oh my God," and I continued to moan with each outgoing
breath until my balls were literally drained dry.

As my orgasm subsided, and I sunk back down into the bed, I said, "Brody,
Brody, what have I done, what have we done?  Dear God, you are only
6-years-old, and you just sucked me off.  I am your father and your mouth
is full of my hot cum, my Daddy's milk. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, what have we
done Brody?  What have we done?"

Totally unconcerned, he ignored my rhetorical questions and continued to
gently nurse my cock like a pro, as if he had sucked cock a hundred times
before, but I knew that he hadn't.  Perhaps he and Orson suck each other's
cocks.  We must ask him, Tom.  That's possible.  But I'm convinced that
this was the first time he sucked a man's cock.  He later told me it was
the first time, and I believe him.

After my body stopped bucking and I settled down and was breathing
normally, Brody let my cock slip out of his mouth, and I watched as he
swallowed my load.  He swallowed several times with a look of utter
distaste on his face, like you do, Tom, when you swallow cum, like it is
just too god-damn bitter to enjoy.  I didn't say anything, but I was amazed
as I watched in disbelief as he then licked up the cum that had escaped his
mouth and was running over the backside of his fingers.  He licked his hand
thoroughly and swallowed after each lick, and he no longer showed any signs
that he found it distasteful.  Then he turned his attention to the cum on
my chin and chest, and he thoroughly licked it all up, being careful not to
miss a single morsel.  I carefully watched his every movement in utter
disbelief.  I watched him as he spotted some cum that was running onto my
balls, and as he quickly licked it up with 4-5 long sweeps of his tongue
across the base of my cock and my balls.  He searched for more cum and
found it settling into the dense pubic hair between my naval and my cock.
At first, he tried licking it up, but it was thick and clung to the hair,
so he resorted to sucking it up between his pursed lips.  Again, he gave no
sign of disliking the taste.  I was puzzled by his initially reacting as if
he didn't like the taste, but then readily eating every morsel he could
find as if it was a tasty treat.

But then he provided the answer to my puzzlement.  "Orson's Daddy told him
that daddies make milk in their balls for little boys just like mommies
make milk in their titties for babies."  He giggled when he said "titties."
"He says that if a boy eats Daddy's milk, he will get a big penis and big
muscles.  Is that true, Daddy?  I want a big penis and muscles like you and
Papa."

So, there it was.  Although the initial taste wasn't to his liking, he had
a powerful motivation for eating my cum.  What boy wouldn't want a big
penis like his Daddy's?

Well, that sounded to me like a ploy a pedophile might use to get a
reluctant boy to swallow a load of his jism if the boy doesn't find it to
his liking.  But Brody had just eaten a big load of my cum, and I didn't
want him thinking that it was bad for him, and of course it isn't, so, I
replied, "Yes, Brody, Daddy's milk is good for a boy."  Little did I
consider that he might infer that if one load of cum is good for a boy,
then many loads would surely be better.

Truth is, Tom, I was so fucking confused.  I desperately needed to sleep
off the alcohol, so I could think clearly.  I picked Brody up, and took him
to his room and put him to bed.  He was still excited about all that had
happened; I could tell that he wouldn't be going right to sleep.  I knelt
on the floor beside his bed, and said to him, "Well, Brody, this has been
quite a night for you.  You wanted to see my erection, and you not only saw
it, but you played with it until I shot my cum, my Daddy's milk.  And you
saw my balls and you played with them.  And you thoroughly surprised me by
sucking my penis and swallowing my Daddy's milk.  This was quite an evening
for a 6-year-old boy.  Indeed, it was quite an evening for me too.  I
guarantee you, most boys and their Daddys never do anything like that.
Never.  It just isn't done, Brody, and we just can't ever do it again."

He groaned, "Oh Daddy, please, that was fun.  I want a big penis and I want
to give you pleasure."  There was that pleasure bit again.  Orson's father
must have closely tied the sexual activity to the idea of giving pleasure.

Ignoring his words, I kissed him on the forehead, and told him that he
could never tell anyone what had happened, not even you, Tom.  I hadn't
figured out yet if I could tell you.  I told Brody that I needed sleep, and
that in the morning we would talk about everything that had happened.

He responded," I love your big penis, Daddy.  It was fun touching it, an
sucking on it, an making you shoot your Daddy's milk.  It hit your chin,"
he giggled!  "I want to do that again.  Please, Daddy, please, can we do it
again tomorrow?" said pleadingly.

Hadn't he heard anything I just said, I wondered?  The answer to his
question, of course, was "no," "never," "not in a million years," but I
didn't want to deal with what I knew would be his incessant pleading and
whining, so I simply said, "I'm glad you had fun, son.  I did too.  Now go
to sleep.  We will talk about it in the morning."

I slept in fits and spurts that night, and I got up in the morning with a
monstrous headache and racked with guilt.  I couldn't believe what
happened, what I had allowed to happen.  Where did I go wrong?  I went over
and over every second after Brody crawled into bed with me and tried to
figure out how things got so out of hand.  I do feel that I was seduced by
my son, but, Christ, Tom, he is 6 and I'm 34!  Since when do 6-year-olds
seduce their fathers?

Anyway, I was clearly hung over, and not thinking clearly, and I knew that
I had to be in better shape before I could discuss with Brody how wrong it
was for us to do what we had done.  So, at breakfast I said, "Brody, I told
you we would talk this morning about what happened last night, but I have
an awful headache and can't think clearly right now, so we will talk either
this afternoon or tomorrow morning.  Okay?"

"Okay.  But it was real fun, Daddy, an your big, hard penis was awesome.  I
want a penis like that someday.  Thank you for letting me see it and play
with it and letting me swallow your Daddy's milk.  I like giving you
pleasure.  And I won't tell nobody.  It's our secret, 'kay?"

"Brody, please, I said we would talk about what happened last night later.
I have an awful headache right now and can't really talk until it goes
away."

Well, I felt much better in the afternoon, and I talked to Brody.  I told
him that we both had a lot of fun and got a lot of pleasure out of what we
did, but that in the world we lived in, we could get into a lot of trouble
for what we did.  I impressed on him how he couldn't say anything to
anybody, not even his best friends, Danny and Orson.  And I told him I
didn't want him to go to Orson's house, that he was in fact forbidden from
going there, at least for a while.  You can understand my concern, Tom,
that Orson's father might try to seduce Brody, or, heaven forbid, vice
versa.  For Brody to suck my cock, and now your cock, is one thing, but
sucking a neighbor man's cock is something entirely different.  And what if
Orson's fatherÉwhat is his first name anyway?  I forget.  What if he
tried to fuck Brody?  Shit, Tom, we have got ourselves into one hell of a
mess here, and I don't know how we are going to deal with it all.

So, you see Tom, that is the honest to God's truth how it happened.  I was
seduced by Orson, but, I know, I'm certainly no saint; I allowed it to
happen, and the worst part about it is that it was hot as hell, so fucking
hot!  I'm ashamed to think how hot it was to watch and feel my 6-year-old
son servicing me like that.  I'm so glad you told me how hot it was for you
too.  I don't feel quite as perverted now.  And, Tom, I'm like you, I have
no sexual interest in Brody.  I have no desire whatsoever to passionately
kiss him like I do you, or suck his little cocklet, or rim him or fuck his
ass.  But, Damn, his playing with my cock and balls, and jacking me off,
and sucking my cock, and swallowing my cum, well, well that was fucking
hot!  But there is no way in hell that I am going to allow it to happen
again.

We have so much to talk about, Tom, but not now.  I'm so fucking horny from
hearing your story and telling you mine that I must have you right now, Big
Man.  I'm so sorry I've been distant these past two weeks, but now you know
why.  Don't ever question my love for you, Tom; Brody and you are the two
most important people in my life and always will be.  Christ look at you,
look at that gorgeous body and that beautiful cock!  Fucking A, Tom.  I'm
the luckiest guy in the world; nobody has ever turned me on like you do.
Since the day we met I have not looked at another man; I've had no reason
to.

      *****************

And, so Peter concluded telling me how it came about that Brody sucked him
off and swallowed his load of cum.  And we made love like we hadn't in
months, if not years.  We were both so fucking hot from hearing each
other's stories that our passion was at full pitch, and we literally
devoured each other from head to toe for over an hour.  After two powerful
orgasms each, we settled into each other's arms, and then started
discussing how we were going to deal with the predicament we found
ourselves in, and how we were going to deal with Orson's father.  That was
going to be extremely tricky to resolve.