Date: Tue, 13 Aug 2013 18:11:36 -0400 From: Quentin Compton Subject: Good Boy pt 3 I think I've been asleep 15 minutes. Nope. Eleven. Last time I looked at the clock, it said 5:49. Now it's 6:00. Dad's alarm clock is playing smooth jazz. Softly at first, but it's getting a little louder. His arms have been wrapped around me, all night, muscular and powerful. His hands are sandpaper against my slight, smooth stomach and chest. Occasionally he brushes my nipples, still sore from the tortures three days ago. But he always kisses the back of my neck when he touches them, and he never pinches them. I have never felt so safe. What if it stops? I have never been so scared. I've stayed awake all night, soaking up as much of him as I can. I feel dad's deep, regulated breathing on my back. His chest pushes and retreats on and from me. So much hair brushing against me each time. It's like I can feel each individual one. I feel his soft cock in the crack of my ass. My boy cock, though, has been hard. All. Night. Just dripping on the sheets. Twice daddy would reach down and play with it a little, and bring his hand back up to my mouth to lick off the boy juices. I remember one finger going down my throat, then two, and then three. It stretched the corners of my mouth, like they were being pulled apart at the seems. "Good boy," I remember dad saying. I remember his cock staying hard for a while then. Now, though, he rolls over to turn off the alarm clock. He's on his back. "Here, boy," he says. I roll over and see he's put his left arm up over his head. I envelope his whole left side, my legs under and over his. I lay my left arm over his chest, and grab onto his shoulder. It fills up my hand completely. I'm eating out the gift he's given me. Daddy's pit. He smells like yardwork, and he lets out a rough, staccato sigh. Some large, slowly waking beast. He takes his left arm and lets it hang down to scratch the small of my back and starts playing with the crack in my ass. He takes his right arm, puts my chin in his hand and makes me look up into his eyes. "You made daddy very hard, boy. Go down, and put just the tip in your mouth." I am full of gratitude and eagerness. Had dad let me cum in the last 24 hours, I'd probably be too grossed out to put my own father's cock in my mouth. It would be too weird. But he has me horny enough, I'd do whatever he said. Walk around the neighborhood naked, put 100 clothespins all over my body. Instead, he just asks me to do what I'd already been up all night thinking about doing. Still, I hesitate. My throat's gone dry and my heart is beating like I'd just raced a sprint. Dad slaps my face--medium hard. "Now, boy. Start with just the tongue, and get really used to how daddy tastes." I work my way down the bed and lay my head on his hard stomach. I stick my tongue out, and when I make contact with the tip, I go nuts. It's like, electricity all over my body. I relax a bit, and embrace my hunger for dad's cock.I feel hands in my hair, and I wrap my lips tightly around the base of the head of his cock. "Suck, bitch," he says, and pulls my hair a little. I do. He moans. I feel settled. I feel like I am doing exactly what I'd been born to do. He gives me instructions. In his deep, resonant, sleepy voice. "Take in a little bit more, boy." "Stick your tongue out." "Yes, keep sucking." He gently pushes my head down farther, until I start to gag and cough up all kinds of mucus. He pulls my head off it, and jerks it himself a bit. "Feels good, boy. My cock lubed with your spit. Do it again." And he pushes my head down. I know I can't take any more, but then I kind of tilt my head back, and I feel it slip into place deeper. He slides in and out of my like this, I'm on all fours, my ass sticking up in an arch, my back completely caved in. Like, it's instinct. Dad pulls me off it again, and jerks a little again. He tells me to get a bit more sleep, and he's going to do his routine downstairs. "Do NOT touch that boy cock," he says. When he's gone, I see my phone light up on the nightstand. There's a text. From stupid Eric. <> I pas out before I can respond. Dad is wet. With so much sweat. "Morning, Matty." One of his arms are under the backs of my knees, the other is behind my shoulders. He's picking me up, and curling me into himself and squeezing me against his damp chest. He looks down at me for a while, and I think, and I hope, he might kiss me. He does, but just on the forehead. He caries me to my room like this. "Back on your knees, boy." And my nose is buried deep in his jock. It's smells awful, sour, dirty laundry. But I get used to it. I want to learn to like this smell. I start to lick at the jock. Dad laughs. "Good boy," he says. "But no time, now. You're going to be late to school, and I'm already late for work." He rustles my hair and walks away. Something in me aches. I text Eric to pick me up from the bus stop. He's off limits, whatever that means, and I don't exactly want to advertise to dad that we're spending more time together than we need to. I've been avoiding him since that day in the restroom. I think about telling him I'll just take the bus. But honestly, something inside me wants to see Eric too. I get in his stupid '99 Honda Civic. "At least I have a car," he tells me. I shrug. It's quiet. "Ready for the 5k coming up?" I shrug again, but my cock is getting hard. He's so tall, and his hair is curly, even though it's short, and his stupid eyes are stupid gorgeous. I fix my eyes on his crotch without really meaning to. Eric is stupid, but I guess he's at least observant because he says. "Touch it if you want, Matt. I know I want to touch yours." I look carefully at the air vent to the right of me and clumsily put my hand in his lap. I'm pulling at the lump, but it's all awkward and stuffed in on itself in his underwear. "You can reach inside," he says. I sigh. "You don't have to," Eric says. Again, the truth is I want to. So, I unzip his shorts and reach in through his briefs and straighten his cock out. He's right. Definitely not as large as mine, but it fills up my hand nicely just the same. I wipe up some of his precum with my finger and then bring it to his lips. He takes my whole finger in his mouth. "Hot," he breathes. I put my mouth to his ear, so that it is on his ear and say, "I'm going to put the whole thing in my mouth after school today." And part of me wants to take it back after I've said it, but mostly I want to see Eric hot and bothered. He looks a little deflated, his eyes roll back in his head then back on the road. I jerk on his cock just two more times, and I hear, "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit." He cums in his briefs. "The fuck!" he shouts and pushes my arm away. I tell him to take off the briefs and go commando today. It's not as fun for him just now, he's not a bit horny, but I tell him in a couple hours he'll be having the most embarrassing tents in his shorts during class. It's not just a couple texts from dad today, but also a few from Eric. <> <> <> <> We're driving back to Eric's house after school. "Please, touch it Matty, please." I tell him I don't want him to cum so quick again. I tell him he hasn't earned being touched. He reaches down with his right hand to touch himself, keeping his left on the steering wheel. It's all instinct when I reach over and slap his face, lightly but firmly. Just like dad does to me. "That cock is mine. It's not yours to touch," I say. He gets out of his car, and I tell him to go back and get his dirty briefs. We're in his house. Now we're in his room. I can smell his stupid deodorant, it's perfume and fake, but I'm getting hard thinking of what I'm about to do. "Strip and get two neck ties." He's hairier than me, and I'm slightly jealous, but then I remember dad likes me smooth. He hands me both of them. Eric has a stupid amount of muscle mass, but i'm more defined than him. "Turn around, b--" I start to say bitch, but it doesn't feel right. "Buddy," I say instead. I kiss him on the back of the neck, and he melts. All posture is gone, all nerves are gone and he is just one big response to stimuli. I wrap the first tie around his eyes, and the second one I use to bind his hands behind his back. I stand on my toes and kiss him. He's pretty clumsy with it, swirling his tongue without much control, but I end it pulling at his lower lip, sucking it out, and whisper, "Good boy." I push him on the bed, and climb on top of his stomach. I put each of his nipples between my thumb and forefingers and pinch, then twist hard. Eric gasps and then yells and writhes. He can't be making that noise, his mom could come home any minute, so I grab the briefs next to us on the bed, and cram them down his mouth as far as they'll go. My mouth is against his ear, "Nine more nip tortures," I tell him, "and I'll put it in my mouth. Understand?" He makes an exaggerated nodding motion. I sit up and twist around, and see his cock, dripping precum. I give it one good tug and then I'm back on his nips. He's focused his breathing, but after seven, I can see tears welling up in his eyes. I take the briefs out of his mouth. "Can you make it, buddy?" He nods. I slap his cheek medium hard. "That cum rags out of your mouth. Answer me." "Yes. Yes, sir," he says. I quickly take off my shirt, I lean over, intoxicated with power and stick my arm pit in his face. He knows just what to do. I slide off his stomach, and jerk his cock with my right hand, while he eats out my left pit. In another minute, he's whining about something. I take my hind of his cock, climb back on top of him and ask, "You close, buddy?" He nods. I slap his face, harder, "Do not cum." I twist his nipples. "Eight," I say. He is bucking, trying to get any stimulation to his cock he can and whimpering from denial and pain. I want to touch myself so badly, but don't dare. Dad'll know if I cum. After the tenth torture, I'm good to my word. "Good job, buddy," I tell him. I kneel on the floor, lean over the bed and take him in my mouth. It doesn't taste like dad, the scent is less complicated, soaps and sweat, and that's it, but I'm enthusiastic. I take him all, go past that speed bump in the back of my throat. I wish I'd put the briefs back in his mouth, all I hear is, "Shit. Oh shit, oh god," again, and again. I tell him to roll over. I untie the necktie, he can jerk off, but has to eat out my other pit. I lie next to him. I watch him spasm, and then become so still. We hear the front door slam. Then, the rough, slurred speech of Eric's actual Uncle Ian. "Hey Eric, you home?"