Date: Sat, 11 Sep 2021 19:52:11 +0200
From: mushu410@mail.com
Subject: Malcolm and My Neighbors chapter 20 UPDATE

DISCLAIMER:

This story is fictional. No real boys have been harmed in the writing.

Certain characters have been inspired by ones created by Linwood Boomer and
copyrighted by Regency Entertainment. The main characters also contain
traits of people I really knew.  The television show "Malcolm in the
Middle" is copyright 2000 by Twentieth Century Fox Television, Regency
Entertainment, and Monarchy Enterprises.  This story in no way implies the
true sexual orientation of the actors or characters they portray.  It is
pure fantasy.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Malcolm and My Neighbors
Chapter 20
A Night with Malcolm – The Little Love Bug

I had just had all three of the boys over for the weekend – from dinner
time Friday night to dinner time Sunday night.  It started out really crazy
with the boys skinny dipping in front of my bugged-out-eyes family, then me
sucking on a sleeping Malcolm that night.  Early the next morning, I ended
up sucking and rimming little Dewey, and even drinking his pee – twice.
And I liked it!  After we all scarfed down a ton of way-too-hot chili, we
ended up with burning assholes the next morning.  This in turn led to new
highs (or lows) of perversion and degradation, including lots of enemas,
the boys being introduced to fucking each other, and finally, sweet, young
Dewey fucking me with his 6-year-old little arm in order to get my asshole
to stop itching.  And as he did it, I had both Reese and Malcolm's dicks
in my mouth, sucking away while we all watched everything in a big mirror.
Sounds like some kind of X-rated circus act, doesn't it?  After all the
asshole drama we caught up on our sleep then spent the afternoon swimming
with no one even having a boner much less an orgasm.  It was a nice change.

Anyway, at a point early in the weekend (when I was starting to cook the
chili, actually) Malcolm came in from the pool to try to steal some alone
time with me (as he often tried to do).  Hey, no problem there.  I love the
little guy – his looks, his personality, his cock and ass...and I loved
that he wanted to be with me.  I loved being the focus of his physical and
emotional attention.  He practically climbed his naked little body up mine
(naked but for an apron) so I could hold him close.  But I could hardly
hold him butt naked over a hot stove while I stirred sizzling and
splattering hamburger.  "Look, Sunshine," I said, feeling bad for
having to put him down, "I gotta stir this meat but I will have you and
only you over on Monday night and we can hug all night or do whatever else
you want."

So now, here we are, 6:00 o'clock Monday night and I've just let
Malcolm in my front door.  It took some doing to arrange it – not with
Malcolm, of course, and not with his parents, nor with Dewey, who was
actually looking forward to spending time playing with Reese now that they
were all getting along better.  No, the problem in Malcolm having me all to
himself was Reese.  Of course.  It wasn't that Reese thought he had to
be with me all the time or that he was even jealous of Malcolm.  No.  It
was that Reese was just the horniest mother-fucker every spit out into the
universe.  Shit, he was so sexy!  The way he was crazy for me to give him
an orgasm made me crazy to give him one.  But the point is, Reese
couldn't bear the thought of going 24 hours without an orgasm – in my
mouth.  Actually, it would be 48 hours, because I had also promised Dewey
that he could come over by himself the next night.

So...about 5:00 o'clock that evening, right before the family ate
dinner, Reese had come over and given me a brutal face-fucking.  It was
quick, loud, relentless, and intense – as it always was with Reese.
Man!  He came over wearing nothing but basketball shorts (no underwear)
dropped them as soon as he walked through the bedroom door, then climbed
onto the bed where I was waiting for him – my head in the center so he
could just climb on top of me and fuck me in the mouth like a girl cunt.
Man, his masculine animalism in the way he attacked my throat with his
12-year-old cock made me so fucking horny!  I ended up just pretending that
my hands were tied down in order to talk myself out of jacking off my own
furiously hard fuckstick – I wanted to save up all my lust for little
Malcolm's impending visit.

Anyway now, an hour later, my throat still sore from Reese's onslaught,
here stood Malcolm in my foyer – no socks, shoes, shirt, belt, hat –
nothing but a pair of small, flimsy looking running shorts.  He brought
nothing with him either – no toys, games, or anything else to wear.

Along with the running shorts, he wore this goofy smile – an expression
I had never quite seen on him before.  I closed the door behind him and
reached my arms out for a hug.  "Wait a minute," he said, then looked
around the room – to make sure all the curtains were closed, I'm
thinking?  They were.  Satisfied, he shucked his shorts down in one quick
shove (no underwear for him either) and stepped out of them, then held his
arms up to me, meaning he wanted to be picked up.  Gosh, how cute!  I mean,
he was cute!  Though age 11, he looked no older than 9 and could easily
pass for being 8.  He was skinny and short – weighing in at no more than
55 pounds, I'd guess.  Of course I would pick him up!

I was wearing only running shorts and a jock myself, so as I pulled him up
and against me, we were chest to chest; skin to skin.  He automatically
wrapped his legs around my waist while his arms went around my neck.  He
squeezed me tightly – VERY tightly – with all 4 of his skinny little
limbs.  I really couldn't breathe but I toughed it out.  I sensed that
he really needed to do it so I wasn't about to disappoint.  Finally, he
relaxed and I heaved in a humongous gulp of air.  He leaned back and looked
at me, his face right in front of mine, just inches away.

I had never seen anyone, I mean anyone, look so happy.  It was too much
somehow.  There was something not quite right about it.  It took me a
second to put my finger on it, but then I realized.  He was surprised.  His
look said not only that he was this happy, but that he had never been this
happy, couldn't believe he was this happy, and didn't deserve to be
this happy.  Man.  Poor Malcolm.  Well, hopefully by tomorrow evening he
would believe it and know he deserved it.

"So, you wanna go downstairs and play some video games?" I asked as I
started to put him down.  "No, DON'T put me down!" he cried,
"don't ever put me down!"

"Malcolm!  What's the matter?!"

"I don't know; just don't put me down, PLEASE!  Don't EVER put
me down!"

And with that, he grabbed me tightly like before and started sobbing onto
my shoulder.  I was flabbergasted, to say the least.  I mean, I know he
doesn't get a lot of attention from his parents and their family is
rather dysfunctional, but this – it was almost like he was having a
nervous breakdown.  What could I do?  I mean, he was wailing onto my
shoulder just a few inches from my ear.  It hurt.  He was cutting off my
circulation and ability to breathe, both at the waist and the neck.  But
what else could I do?  I held him.  I held him tight.  I tried to take
rapid shallow breaths as much as I could.  I didn't shush him as people
so often seem to do.  "Get it out, Malcolm," I said, "let it all out.
I will never put you down, I promise."

So he did.  I stood there and squeezed him and nuzzled my cheek into his
little face and rocked side-to-side a bit.  I don't know how long he
cried – not long – maybe 5 to 10 minutes.  As he started to wind
down, I turned to give him some little kisses on his cheeks, nose,
forehead, the top of his head.  He relaxed his vice-grip on me and I could
breathe again.

Finally, he spoke.  Lifting up his little head and leaning back to get
face-to-face again, he said, "Would you really hold me forever?"
"Yes," I replied simply.  He smiled.  But there was a slight frown
coming.  I mean, it's really not possible to hold someone forever is it?
Hey, he asked me an impossible question.  So I asked him a more concrete
one: "Would you really WANT me to hold you forever?"

He had to pause.  "I guess not," he said.  "It might not work
forever. Actually, my legs are starting to hurt a little right now from
being spread open so wide." (Oh, FUCK, Malcolm, there are so many
reasons I have for you to spread your legs wide!!)  "How about this,
little buddy?" I said, "I promise that until you have to go home
tomorrow at 5:00 p.m., I will hold you whenever and for as long as you
want, whether we are standing, walking, sitting, or lying down.  How's
that?"

"That's perfect!" he exclaimed.  "Okay, let's sit down,
then," I replied, not waiting for an answer, but heading for the big
recliner.  I grabbed him by the small of his back and pressed him tightly
to me, then pried off a leg and managed to get him dangling, then into my
lap as I sat down.  He kept his arms around me and his head on my shoulder.
About half his naked chest was still pressed against me.  Plus, I could
feel his smooth legs on mine.  It was sweet.  I mean, really sweet.  So
this was going to be my weekend.  Spent curled up with and attached to
beautiful young Malcolm.  And knowing Malcolm, there would also be a lot of
kisses along the way.  For the next 24 hours, he would be my little love
bug.

We just sat there for 5 minutes not speaking.  And for MALCOLM to go five
minutes without saying anything?  That's SOMETHING!  Then he said
something that I surely must have heard wrong:

"I want your dick in me."

"WWWHHHHAAAATTTTTT????????????!!!!!!!!!!" Okay, don't worry –
that was me screaming in my brain, not out loud.  Frankly, I couldn't
quite speak.  And yet, I couldn't wait to speak.  "Malcolm," I
said as gently as I could, already feeling out of breath from the
adrenaline pumping, "did I hear you right, Sunshine?  You want...you
want me to fuck you up the ass?"

"Yeah...well, no, I mean...I dunno!  Gosh, it sounds so nasty when you
say it!"

But he was still holding tight to me, his arms around my neck, his face on
my shoulder, his bare chest pressed against mine.  "I want..." he
started again..."I want, oh man, I don't know what I want!  I just
want to feel...  Fuck!"

"You want to feel fuck?"

"Nnnnoooooooooo!  Oh man, just forget it.  I'm crazy.  Don't mind
me."

"But I do mind you, Malcolm," I said, "you are on my mind always.
And what you said is going to be on my mind until we figure it out.
Just...just sit here a minute.  It will be okay." And I stepped up my
squeezing and petting of his beautiful, exquisite little boy body while I
tried to process what might be on his mind.  It took me about a minute.

"Malcolm," I said softly, "I think what you want maybe is to be
really close to me – be really intimate.  And from what I've heard,
there's nothing more intimate than when a man and woman are in love, and
lying face-to-face and joined together making love...kissing, bound
together by the parts of their body.  Is it something like that that you
are looking for?"

"I...I think so," he replied.

"So...you want my dick in you, but you don't want fucked, is that
it?  What?  You want to just be hooked together but me not moving in and
out?  Is that it?"

"Yes, exactly," he said, "hooked together like you said, you
know—" "Connected?" I interrupted.  "THAT'S that word!"
he exclaimed, leaning back and looking at me again.  "I want to be
connected." And he nuzzled his sweet little handsome face back into my
chest again.  I had to shudder.  I mean, just holding this awesome little
boy who was totally naked on my lap was already pushing the edge of what my
senses could handle.  And the thought of fucking him – of fucking
anyone.  I had never fucked anyone in my life.  I felt my dick starting to
strain in my shorts.  But I had to think of this little boy – I mean –
this LITTLE boy.

"Malcolm?" I said, "Have you thought about the pain?" "No,"
he replied, "I haven't thought about doing it at all until I just
said it—until I just said it out loud just now."

"Really?"

"Well, you told me I should try living in the moment—jumping into
life, not sitting on the sidelines overthinking and never doing!"

"I said all that?"

"You know what I mean."

"Well, anyway," I continued, "you remember what it felt like to
have Reese's dick go up your butt; and not to brag, but mine's a
whole lot bigger."

"I know," he said quietly.

"Look, Malcolm," I said after a moment.  There's another way to
share body parts – to feel intimate.  It's called French kissing."
"You mean with tongues?" he asked.  "Yes," I answered, my lust
building along with my hope.  "Sounds gross," he said.  "Everyone
says that until they try it," I replied.  "Remember – jump into
life?...."

"Okay," he answered.

"Okay?"

"Yup."

And he moved in.  It was that easy.  I couldn't believe it!  Our lips
locked and he released the grip on his lips to allow the entrance of my
horny tongue.  My cock was about to explode and I had to lift us both up so
I could practically rip my shorts and jock down to my ankles and off.  My
mind was a mass of bumping storms of thought and ecstasy.  Never had I even
fantasized about frenching one of these boys, so sure I was that it would
never happen.  I felt like I was shuddering all over – I didn't know
if it was for real or in my mind.  Here I was, my tongue planted into sweet
little Malcolm's sweet little mouth!  Exploring, touching, CONNECTING!
I was on sensory overload.  My cock was about to blow.  And why not?  I was
just about to grab it and start furiously jacking when somewhere from
across the street I heard a distant, "Ewwww!"

Or was it across the street?  Wait a minute, where is Malcolm?  Where is
his little face?  His little mouth?  "That's disgusting!" I heard
someone say, only this time they seemed closer.  My head was spinning.  I
felt faint.  I was still shuddering inside and maybe out.  Could it be?
Yes.  It was.  It was Malcolm.  FUCK!  I mean FUCK!  I mean FUCK, FUCK,
FUCK of all FUCKS!!!!

"How can you DO that???!!!" he asked incredulously.  And this time,
there was no mistake.  The voice was inches from me and it was
Malcolm's.  FUCK!

I was ready to cry.  I was still in a daze – trying to come down, or
rather, trying NOT to come down from the intense sexual high that had
seconds ago been within my reach.  "M...Malcolm," I stammered, still
breathless, "that was the most amazing thing to me...that
was...was...it was an eleven on a scale of one to ten!" I finally
blurted out.

Again, "incredulous" was the word for the look on his face.  "I
can't believe that," he said.  "It was gross!"

"Look, Malcolm," I continued, "you know that it's done all the
time – you know that from what you've seen on the internet and what
you've heard older kids talk about.  Anyway...it's okay.  You
don't have to do it if you really don't want to."

"Well that's good, `cause I—" "PLEASE, Malcolm!" I
interrupted.  "It felt so fucking good to me!  It was so awesome!  I
know I said I'd never force you to do anything you don't want to do
and I won't, but I'm asking—I'm begging—PLEASE, just this
one time, do this thing for me." I paused for a second—no reaction
from him.  But he didn't say "no."

"Think of it as a favor," I continued.  "I do favors for you all
the time.  Think of it as a chore—like if you came to help me clean
because I needed it.  That wouldn't be pleasant or fun but you'd do
it because you love me and because you're a nice person." Again, a
pause, and nothing.  Was he coming around?  "It won't even take that
long," I said, talking faster now.  "I mean, we kissed for like one
second and it got me so hot, I was like two seconds from coming right then.
Look, I'm still hard." And I grabbed my erect cock and bopped him in
the back with the tip of it.

"Stop that!" he said.  But then he giggled.  Hah!  I had him!  FUCK,
FUCK, FUCK!

He sighed and then, "For how long?" he blurted out.

"Just until I cum and pull away from your mouth," I answered.  "I
can't think it would take any longer than a minute altogether.  And you
can be the one to put your tongue in my mouth this time.  That won't be
as icky." "It will still be icky," he replied.

"Malcolm!"

"Okay!"

Okay!  Oh FUCK.  I mean FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!  "Wait!" I said.
"Let me get you hard first, then you might enjoy it more!" And I just
swooped him up in my arms to get his sweet little piece into my waiting
mouth.  He let out a gasp – maybe at the speed at which I did it, maybe
at my strength in being able to do it.  (I did lift weights, remember.)
Then he let out a little "mmm" when I slurped his tiny tool into my
22-year-old mouth.  I just sucked gently and gave him a little tongue
action.  It takes Malcolm a little longer as his body has not started
flooding itself with hormones as with his older brother, Reese (the hormone
king).  But soon, his little peepee started to grow and he was purring like
a kitten.  And his little member was now throbbing in all its 3 inch glory.

"Okay," I said, lowering him back down to my lap.  "Just promise
me that you won't pull away.  Please.  I implore you." (I had found
it was easier to get Malcolm to agree when you used big words.)  "I
promise," he said with a big grin.  At least, he seemed to be into it
from the standpoint of doing me a favor.  I would take what I could get and
gladly.

With my hand shaking in lust and excitement, I hit the release on the chair
and reclined us all the way back.  I grabbed my little prince under his
hairless armpits and pulled him up so we were face to face.  This also
allowed my straining 6-inch cock to pop out from under him.  Now with one
hand on my cock and the other on the back of his head, I was ready.
"Now, please," I almost whispered, finding it hard to even squeeze
out the words.

As I said it his face was only about 6 inches above mine.  He stuck out his
tongue and licked around his soft little pink boylips to get them good and
wet.  I actually had to moan out loud as I shuddered, eliciting a little
giggle from him.  His still hard little peepee was digging into my upper
stomach.  So awesome!  He puckered up those delectable lips and slowly
moved down, it seemed as in slow motion.  My head was spinning.  The kiss
was nice but that was not new.  But then: There it was!  This tiny little
wet tongue gently entering my horny, waiting mouth.

"HHHHMMMMM!!!!" I screamed and shook with abject lust as I grabbed my
cock and started jacking furiously.  Malcolm's tongue!  A tiny, sweet
little boy tongue!  Sweet little Malcolm's little boy tongue!  In my
mouth!  In my mouth, you fuckers!  I had a boy tongue in my
mouth!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Hmmmm!  Hmmmmm!  HMMMMM!" I cried, basically screaming into his open
mouth.  My left hand on the back of his head was smashing him into me.  As
I passionately sucked on that incredible tongue, I started sobbing, the
jerking of my body wracked with sobs joining the already violent motions of
my lust and soon-to-come orgasm.  "HHHHMMMM!" I screamed over and
over again, a full three octaves higher than my normal voice.  "M-HMM!
M-HMM!  M-HMM!" I sobbed and jerked, tears already getting into my mouth
as they ran down my face.

My orgasm started from someplace deep within me.  Along with the jerking
and shaking, I started heaving back and forth, from side to side, first one
hip coming up off the chair, then that hip slamming back down as the other
one came up.  The chair was moving across the floor with each violent slam,
but all the while I kept my hand on the back of Malcolm's 11-year-old
head, my lips locked on his as I continued to suck on the precious little
tongue tip that had invaded my mouth.

And then, all of a sudden, no longer heaving side to side, but bucking, my
young ass jolting up from the chair and then pounding back down again!
"M-HMM!  M-HMM!  M-HMM!" I half sobbed half screamed as my body started
convulsing, waiting for my cock to catch up.  And then, like a mammoth
volcano that had been building up pressure for eons, I erupted with full
fire and volume.  As the first shot came out, my hips shot up off the chair
in time with it.  It killed me to pry my lips off the object of my orgasm
and away from that priceless tongue, but I had no choice.  About to faint,
I had to suck in a huge breath of air, and then, still convulsing in
perhaps the most violent orgasm of my life, I had to scream.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" I wailed, causing young Malcolm to recoil in
terror but I managed to grab back ahold of him and pull him tight to me.
It was frightening.  It was primal.  But I had to have him with me.
"Uh-Huh, Uh-Huh, Uh-Huh!" I cried now, still wracked with sobs, still
overcome and overwhelmed, still jerking in the throes of my insane,
off-the-charts cum.  I don't know how my times I shot.  It felt like 10 or
12.  I don't know where it all came from.  Finally, after what seemed like
years, I started to actually calm down a little.

"Oh Malcolm," I cried, "Oh Malcolm, oh Malcolm," I kept saying over and
over, "that was the most...I mean...it was...there are no words...oh
Malcolm, oh Malcolm, oh Malcolm!" And in pure exhaustion, I let my head
drop back onto the chair, once again overtaken by tears, but this time more
gentle crying as opposed to violent sobs.  My young prince nuzzled his head
into my chest and held me tight with his skinny arms.

I had one hand on his shoulder and the other on my spent but still inflated
penis.  I moved both hands to his back to hold him and found that he was
covered with my cum.  There was a ton of it.  I didn't think to clean it
off, instead, in my continued state of passion, still crying, I started to
rub it all over him, massaging it into his skin, especially on his sweet
little butt cheeks.  Always, after I cum, my dick goes soft and I can't
do anything for a while – at least for several minutes.  But in this
instance, my cock had never gone down and I was actually feeling aroused
again.  On another day, I probably would have grabbed something to wipe him
off, but not today.  I had had his tongue in my mouth and I had sprayed him
with my seed.  He was mine.  I wanted to mark him.

As my weeping finally subsided and it was quiet again, we heard a "splat"
sound and Malcolm jumped slightly.  It felt like something hit his butt
right near my hand.  I moved it over into something gooey.  It was...no it
couldn't be...but it was.  My first volcano spew of cum must have hit the
ceiling.  And now, it had just fallen off onto Malcolm's little boy ass.
Unbelievable.

Like I said, he was mine – mine for the next 24 hours.  What would we do
next?  As far as I was concerned, I was done.  I was satisfied; I was
satiated.  We could just lie here like this from now until tomorrow evening
– sleep right here in the chair even.  I was so exhausted I wasn't
ready to move anyway.

"I still want your dick in me," he said quietly, his head still
resting on my chest.

I paused to let that sink in yet again.  "Okay, Sunshine," I said.
"I don't know how that is going to work but we'll manage it
somehow."

Yes, after what he had just done for me, I was prepared to do anything for
him.  Even fuck him.  Wait, no, he said he didn't want to be fucked,
just impaled.  Shit!  I can't imagine that it would be better than what
we just did.  But with a little patience and a lot of lube, maybe I
wouldn't have to imagine it.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

Coming in Chapter 21 - A Night with Malcolm, Part 2 – Grunts, Groans,
and Gratitude

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