Date: Sun, 17 Dec 2017 17:14:01 +0000
From: Tiao Wu <hjk7359@hotmail.com>
Subject: Here Cums the Neighborhood: Part 9

This writing contains sexually explicit material, unsuited for readers
under the age of 18. If you are underage, live in an area that disallows
the reading of this type of material, or are offended by homosexual
content, please do not read further.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, settings, and ideas
featured in this series are based on fantasy. Any character that resembles
someone in your reality is purely coincidental.

If you enjoy these stories, please donate to Nifty so that we can continue
reading.

Feel free to email hjk7359@hotmail.com to give feedback or constructive
criticism. Please enjoy.

***************************************************************************
Chapter 9 - Crossing the Threshold

"Good morning, Mr. Sebastian."

I was in a dark room. Light was faintly shrouding around my eyes, like
cigarette smoke, or fog. The smell of musk, woodchippings, and chlorine
made me dizzy.

"Wh-who's there?" I called out. Light slowly grew in the seemingly endless
space.

"You don't remember me?" The voice was familiar. "You must have a bug in
your brain." From the distance, a pair of dark legs stepped forward. Light
painted the rest of his body, and each inch of him was revealed like a
sheet being removed from a new car. His brown cock, heavy and dark, swung
between his thighs--his legs twitching with soft muscle as he walked.

"D-Dr. Amar?" I looked down as the faint light opened up more of my
vision. I was standing in a pool of something. Something warm. Almost like
gel, or oil. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn't water. Against my skin
it felt slick and arousing. My cock, hard and floating in the substance,
pointed toward Dr. Amar, as if we were magnetic.

"I'm glad you're awake. We've been waiting for you," he continued,
approaching my tank. I looked around searching for who this "we" was.

On cue, I heard more footsteps approaching the capsule. Looking around I
saw a naked Coach Scott, Mr. Grisham, my dad, all stepping up to the pool.

"Thank God you're awake," Mr. Grisham said, voice thin.

"We're saved!" Coach Scott rejoiced.

"Son," my dad panted, in relief. "You have no idea."

"We've been trapped here for who knows how long," Coach Scott chimed in,
grabbing hold of his uncut dick.

"Years," Dr. Amar added. I looked around at all of them, approaching me
closer and closer. All four of them pressed themselves against my tank. "We
took your father's DNA and birthed you in this pod." I looked around
confused. I had no idea what was happening.

"There was huge accident, son," Dad explained, his breath fogging on the
glass walls of my prison, his hand twisting around his cock. "All the women
in the world..." he started.

"They vanished," Dr. Amar added, his cock smearing precum on the glass of
my pod. I glanced around anxiously.

"My wife..." Coach Scott sighed.

"Yer mother..." Dad added.

"All gone," Mr. Grisham lamented. I didn't understand. How could this have
happened? Where was I?

"We went into hiding when it happened," Dr. Amar said. "And I got to work
on a solution." Coach Scott jacked himself off, glaring at me. "And here
you are." What solution? I wondered.

"We..." my dad explained, "we've needed you," he finished, gripping his
cock. Suddenly I felt myself falling, slowly. The images of the men
surrounding me rising above me. The oily gel substance undulated around me,
and when I finally hit the floor with a musical splat, the gel and oil
rolled away from me. I was left naked on a hard floor, covered in this oily
substance.

"Sebastian," I heard my name echoing through the voices of different
men. "We've needed you." I saw Mr. Grisham, Dr. Amar, Coach Scott, and my
father crawling toward me, almost like lizards searching for prey. Their
leaking dicks dragged against the floor, leaving trails of precum on the
floor.

Looking down at my dick I saw it inflate with size. From my waist no longer
held my small dagger of a prick, my boyhood that I'd only gotten to know as
of recently. What grew from my hips was a claymore. My balls that were once
like dates became engorged with semen, melons that hung from my dick. My
voice bleated with moans. I cradled my punching bag of a dick with my arms.

"We've needed you," I felt a hand coil around my ankle, my body being
dragged toward the now savage men, that I hardly recognized. The grown men
slowly began overtaking me. Fingers dragged against my oily skin, arms and
legs sprung every which direction, until I had no idea who was who. Dicks
slid against my stomach, my face, my hole, even my toes felt the leathery
and spongy sensation of a cock.

"We need you, Sebastian. We need you. We need you."

Fingers punched through my hole as two dicks entered my mouth. A mouth
engulfed the head of my gargantuan dick. Another chomped on my nipple.

"We need you. Sebastian. We need you."

I started crying in pleasure. We became a wad of humanity. Steam rose from
our sweaty and oily skin. Bodies slid against mine. My dad's hairy chest,
Dr. Amar's brown stomach, Coach Scott's firm nipples, Mr. Grisham's pure
white skin. In rhythm their slick bodies rubbed against mine. Their cocks
pressing against my hips, my back, my hole, every part of me felt their
touch. All I could do is whine and whimper in pleasure.

"We need you."

Cum sprayed from my dick, a steady stream, as my voice sang into this dark
abyss of a place. The men with blissful smiles on their faces hungrily
lapped up any liquid they could find. Fighting over every drop. My dad
whimpered like a dog as he scrambled for my dick shaking it for more
cum. Dr. Amar and Coach Scott raced their tongues across my face, my eyes,
nose, mouth, for anything they could find.

"We need you." Mr. Grisham, eyes white and distant, shoved his entire arm
inside of my hole, as my Dad, face childish and pouting, desperately pumped
my cock as if for water. I lay like an object, used for serving these men's
hunger.

Again, like a hose sperm shot from my dick, bathing these men in milky
white cum. The men lay paralyzed, zombified, hands jerking themselves off,
twitching in pleasure.

"Th-thank you, Sebastian," the voices moaned. I lay soaked watching them.

"We need you. We need you. We need---"

**

My eyes shot awake. I threw the covers off of me to see my briefs soaked. I
dabbed my fingers against the fabric and felt the cold stickiness of my
cum. Touching myself made my skin shimmer with pleasure.

Another dream, I thought.

I looked around at my unfamiliar surroundings. Morning was painting the
room with sunlight. I started to recognize where I was--Paul's bedroom.

Looking down at the bed, I was relieved when I saw that none of the sheets
were damp from my dream.

"Man," I thought. "Not sure if I wanted to wake up from that or not."
Images of men tugging and pulling and fighting for my cum. It almost scared
me.

It also excited me.

I shimmied out of my wet briefs and tossed them over to my backpack, laying
for a second, naked in Paul's room. I blinked my eyes a few times, waking
up completely.

Outside Paul's door I heard Mr. Grisham's voice outside. The sounds of him
getting ready, his muffled voice, his heavy footsteps, the water running,
it was enough to make me rock hard all over again. The idea that this grown
man, whom just last night, I saw hiding in the bathroom, bringing himself
to an almost shameful orgasm, drenching his hairless and pale body with
cum.

My breath shuddered as I reached for my dick, squeezing it with my hand. It
was still slick from cumming in the middle of the night. My legs tightened
with pleasure, my toes curling and ankles rotating under Paul's bed
sheets. I heard him rustling in the top bunk above me, muttering
incoherently in his sleep.

"Yeah, I'll check if they're up." Mr. Grisham's voice vibrated against
Paul's door. I quickly jerked my hand away from my dick, and threw the
covers back over me. As the door swung open, I closed my eyes, pretending
to be asleep.

"Boys?" he whispered. My heart was beating like a drum. I felt it in my
eyelids, in my gut, in my cock. With every heart beat I felt my dick bounce
against the bedsheets. Nothing I could do could keep myself still. No
matter if I tried to stop thinking, just stop thinking.

I heard Mr. Grisham close the door softly, his footsteps scraping against
the carpet. I peered through my eyes to see Mr. Grisham just standing in
Paul's room. I thought he might be heading to wake Paul up, but instead he
was just standing.

My dick, unable to sit still, was fully hard, and tenting up my light,
almost weightless covers. The head of my dick thumping against the sheets
like a small animal trapped inside of a net.

Mr. Grisham stepped closer to me. I thought about the dream I'd had
before. Mr. Grisham was unable to keep his hands off of me.

"We need you," I heard the voices again replay in my head.

I opened my eyes as discreetly as I could. When I did, I saw Mr. Grisham
squatting down next to me. He was dressed, so I assumed he was wanting us
to get up and get dressed, too.

I heard him sigh. Not a sad one. More like, a kid doesn't get what he
wants, and sighs out of pouting.

"Sebastian?" Mr. Grisham whispered. I ignored him. Pretending to be asleep.

"Sebastian?" he asked a little louder. I didn't even flinch. My heart was
pounding in my chest. The idea that Mr. Grisham was near me while I was
naked. That he was only a foot or two away from my boner.

I gave a light snore, acting as if I were in deep sleep. I saw a shadow
move across my eyelids, then a light touch near my waist. I shut my eyes
completely, and kept my steady breath.

Slowly, I felt the bedsheets peel from around my waist, and my stiff cock
slap against my navel, springing straight up.

"Dear, God..." Mr. Grisham whispered. I felt my cock bounce between my
legs, almost like a finger beckoning to come closer. I felt the warmth of
Mr. Grisham's skin radiating as he reached toward my sensitive cock, still
sticky with cum.

His hand rested on my belly, and slowly wiped its way toward my chest, my
nipple. With the softness of a surgeon, he tweaked and tweezed my left
nipple. I wanted to whisper, "Keep going," or "Give me your cock," or
something to give him permission to keep playing since he seemed so
scared. Scared of so many things.

Perhaps of getting caught by his wife, or Paul, or what's worse, God.

I just continued my soft steady breath. My chest rising and falling
naturally, even though being touched by Mr. Grisham was driving me
wild. His hand reach over to my other nipple. Feeling more at ease, he
twisted my nipple with his thumb and index finger.

"Hmmm," I whispered a tiny flute of a moan, which made him retract his
hand. I scared him. I lay still, hoping he'd come back. My dick continued
to buzz and jump, my heart pounded with nerves and excitement.

Unexpectedly, I felt a hand rest on my dick, causing it to twitch in his
hand. My eyes fluttered in response, eager for more. His hand lightly pet
my dick, like it was a small animal, and he coaxing it to respond well to
his touch.

Above me, I heard Paul rustling in bed.

"Mmmm...Dad?" I heard his groggy voice. Mr. Grisham jerked his hand away,
and stood up quickly.

"H-he...G-good m-morning, son," he sounded wildly nervous and scared. I
opened my eyes, and looked over at him. He was standing, talking to Paul,
unable to see me.

I thought quickly about what to do next. I needed for him to see the rest
of me.

"Mom's downstairs cooking breakfast," Mr. Grisham said.

"Mmk," Paul said wiping his eyes. "Five more minutes?" he asked.

"Five more minutes," he whispered. I quickly spun around, laying on my
stomach, my ass slightly exposed with the sheet draped over half my butt
and the rest of my legs. I arched my back slightly presenting myself to
him, hoping that he would see on his way out.

"See you downstairs," Mr. Grisham whispered, and then backed away from the
bed. Again, I saw him stop in his tracks. I wagged my ass a little bit,
still pretending to be asleep.

"Honey?" Mrs. Grisham called from down stairs. With a shutting of the door,
Mr. Grisham was gone.

**

On the way to church, pancakes, eggs, and bacon settled in my belly making
me sort of groggy. I sat next to Paul in the back seat as the Grishams sat
up front. Mr. Grisham was driving. Paul let me borrow some church
clothes--slacks and a button up, along with my dirty sneakers.

The feeling in the car was strange. Looking at Mr. Grisham drive, my
stomach turned with excitement. I now knew that Mr. Grisham saw something
in me. Just like Coach Scott. Something drew him to me.

My mind flashed through images I'd stored of him. I'd seen him jack
off. I'd seen him cum. I'd felt his touch on my dick, while I was
pretending to be asleep.

"Here we are," Mrs. Grisham said joyfully.

"Hope we're not too early," Mr. Grisham replied.

"We'll be fine. Boys, you can go play until around nine."

"Yes sir," Paul responded, and off we went to the playground behind the
church.

The building wasn't what I expected. Plain, brick, almost like a large
house, or a school. The front was definitely church-y with it's depiction
of a cross on the front, a few stained glass windows. Otherwise, nothing
like what I'd imagined, with big rocks and incredibly ornate architecture
like I'd seen in pictures.

As we arrived at the playground, Paul tepidly scuffed some gravel with his
shoes.

"Why couldn't we just go inside?" I asked.

"My dad has to go over his sermon, make sure everything's ready, all that
stuff."

"Y'think he just runs around and plays inside when no one's around?" I
asked jokingly.

"Ha, I doubt it, but..." he laughed, "that'd be pretty funny."

I sat on the swings rocking back and forth. Trying to take my mind off of
my dick. Off Mr. Grisham. Imagining him getting undressed. Imagining his
hand on my cum stained crotch.

"What's yer dad like?" Paul asked, jolting me out of my trance.

"Huh?" I asked, dazed.

"Yer dad. What's he like?"

"My dad? Well, he's--" my mind flashed through a flipbook of images of
him. Him teaching me how to tie my shoes. Him showing me how to jack
off. Him showing me how to start a fire. Him teaching me how to grill
burgers. Him showing me how to sand wood. His cock inches from my face. His
eyes. His legs like hairy tree trunks. His face scraping against mine when
we kiss. His cum.

"--he's the best," I finally managed to say.

"Ha, that's cool," Paul mumbled. "I feel like my dad's been sorta..." My
ears perked up.

"Sorta what?" I asked.

"Nah, it's nothing," Paul dismissed.

"Whaddya mean nothing?" I pried.

"He's just...really different for some reason." My throat closed up hearing
this.

"Different how?" I asked, more seriously.

"Ha," he laughed indifferently, "he's just working more I think." Paul
jumped off the jungle jim. "No big deal."

"Hey," I called after him. "Have you and your dad ever..." I tasted my
dad's cum on my motongue, my eye fluttering at the thought. "...never
mind."

"What?" he moved toward me. "Now your the one being weird!" Paul teased.

"I said, 'never mind'!" I called back, running toward the church.

"Hey, wait up!" Paul chased after me. We filed inside with a crowd of
people. After finding Mrs. Grisham in the front row.

The service went normally. Lots of hymns, pause for prayer, announcements,
people smiling, saying amen. I was more focused on Mr. Grisham. Sometimes I
would swear that he was looking right at me. Staring into my eyes.

The interior of the church was mostly deep golden wood. The walls, the
floor, the pews, all wood. The ceiling stretched giving the illusion of
size that I wasn't expecting. The windows were tall and tinted, and except
for one stained glass mosaic at the front of the building, not much color
existed in this space. The churchgoers mainly brightened the room with
their amiable talk and presence and dress.

All I could do was shift uncomfortably in my seat. I desperately wanted to
go to the bathroom. At least to rub out a quick load while I waited for the
service to be over. All I could think about was sex. If I wasn't looking at
Mr. Grisham, I was looking at the man two pews down, undressing him with my
eyes. Or the man in front of me with the buzzcut, spilling his seed into my
mouth just because he could. Or at the muscled statue of Jesus hanging at
the front of the church. Part of me wished that I could just freeze time
and wrap myself around Mr. Grisham, who had to be almost two feet taller
than me. Climbing him like a tree.

My cock was rock hard and buzzed in my pants. I needed to be touched.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, pretending to fiddle with quarters or
anything that might have been left inside, but really, I just needed to
grope and fondle myself. Adjust my five-inch prick in these slacks that
seemed to be getting more tight and uncomfortable as the day went
on. Because I soaked my underwear the night before, I didn't have any
underwear on underneath my slacks.

Out of desperation, I reached in front of me, taking one of the bibles
shelved in the pews and rested it on my lap, hiding my painful erection.

The pages flapped open, and at first I pretended to read. 2 Peter 2:6, I
read further. Words like Sodom and Gomorrah. Words like sex. In this book?
I was surprised. My eyes widened, and I slammed the book shut. Nowhere that
I could look was I safe from my eyes seeing anything sexual.

I looked up at Mr. Grisham. He paced the floor in front of the pulpit. He
gesticulated to the crowd wildly and animatedly. His suit jacket like a
cape whipped around his waist. His sandy blond hair, at one point combed,
started to lift from his head with humid frizz.

Mr. Grisham's voice rang through the congregation, powerful, and
charismatic. The audience praise, amen-ed, laughed, hiccuped with tears. I
imagined that voice ringing through the church, muffled by my dick, moaning
into my hole. Or encouraging me: "Suck my cock, Sebastian." I could hear
him say.

"We need you."

"And now, please stand as we close with Hymn 333: 'Yield Not to
Temptation'. Hymn 333," Mr. Grisham announced. I didn't want to
stand. Anything but that, I thought. My boner jammed against the fly of my
pants, and I winced as I straightened myself out, doing my best to tuck my
erection to the side, making sure to keep my hands in my pocket.

I looked on with Paul as he and his mother sang, this hymn familiar to
them:

"Yield not to temptation, For yielding is sin, Each vic'try will help you;
Some other to win."

The building filled with perfunctory voices of harmony, the wooden mallets
of the piano striking the various chords. Mr. Grisham sang along
cheerfully, holding the hymnal with one hand.

"Ask the Savior to help you, Comfort, strengthen, and keep you.  He is
willing to aid you, He will carry you through."

The congregation held out the final "through" with one final chord,
punctuated by the shuffling of eager feet. Mr. Grisham held out his arms
for one final thought.

"I hope you leave here with joy in your hearts. Yield not to
temptation. Find yourselves through the spirit of the lord!"

"Amen!" the voices cried back.

"If any of you stand here today, have yet to ask the lord into your heart,
please," he paused, "Come forth. See me, and I will bring him to you," he
said clearly. I looked around. Would anyone actually do that? I looked at
Paul. He shrugged, angling his gazed toward his father, as if to say, "Go
ahead."

"Go now in peace, and celebrate life. Praise the Lord!" Voices rumbled
throughout the space, as each turned toward one another, saying phrases
like "Peace be with you," and "the Lord loves you today." Mr. Grisham
looked to be composing himself. His sideburns a dark wheat color from sweat
beading on his brow and forehead.

"I..." I turned to Paul, "I think I'm gonna go up there," I said.

"Awesome!" Paul said, smile brimming. I turned away from him and made my
way toward Mr. Grisham who stood on a stage of stained
concrete. Mr. Grisham was wiping his brow with a white handkerchief.

"Hoo, boy," Mr. Grisham smiled. "How'd you like it?" Mr. Grisham spoke
loudly over the chatter, still projecting from his sermon.

"Uh, i-it was great!" I said back. "You, ehm..." I stammered, "you...at the
end...said to come to you if--" Mr. Grisham paused, looking confused. My
eyes searched frantically for the words to say. My hands shoved still in my
pocket, pressing against my hard on.

"Oh!" Mr. Grisham said suddenly almost taken aback. "Oh! Oh, yes! Of
course!" He enthusiastically placed his hand on my shoulder. I saw him
searching for something behind me. I turned around and saw Mrs. Grisham
smiling knowingly, taking Paul with her outside.

"Ah, um, okay!" Mr. Grisham stammered awkwardly. "Come with me, Sebastian!"

My heart started racing in my chest. Where were we going?

Mr. Grisham led me down a winding hallway with deep grey carpet, the wood
from the main area still carried into this back area. Eventually we came to
an office that said Rev. Mark Grisham. With a turn of a key, Mr. Grisham
pushed open the door and turned on a light.

Inside was a large desk in front of shelves that were stacked with books
with muted colors. A couple of chairs and a couch were set up almost like a
counselor's office. A small cross was pinned to a wall.

"Come on in and have a seat," Mr. Grisham said, closing the door behind
us. I came in and sat on the couch, which was soft and comfortable, but a
little itchy. Mr. Grisham continued walking about his office, taking off
his coat and hanging it on the back of his office chair.

"Man, it's hot out there!" he sighed, exasperatedly, seeming a bit
nervous. He unbuttoned his top button, loosened his tie and finally pulled
up one of the chairs near his desk and sat facing me. His neck was red,
shiny with sweat. I took a slow breath, taking him into my lungs. I smelled
his body odor, his men's soap, sweat. My dick pounded in my pants. I folded
my arms and pressed them across my lap to hope that he wouldn't notice.

"So," he said folding his fingers, "I'm really happy you decided to come
forward and see me."

"Y-yeah," I said. I was scared. Why did I come back here with him? What
reason did I really have? I stared his crotch. My mouth watering, my eyes
glazed over. I cleared my throat. "Yeah, I really hope I can get the lord
in my heart like you said." Even though I said this as though I was look
looking forward to getting a tooth pulled, Mr. Grisham smiled.

"Well, it's easy, Sebastian," he explained. "It's easy and then it's not so
easy," he scooted a bit closer to where I was sitting. "By taking Jesus
into your heart, you're saying that you are going to live your life through
Him, and that you love Him and you accept that He loves you, too."

"But," I started. "I don't even know who he is." Mr. Grisham nodded
knowingly.

"That's a good point, Sebastian." He stood up from his chair and went over
to his desk, and came back with a book. "I want you to have this." He
handed the book to me, and I saw that it was a bible. I flipped through
it. "A lot of the answers to some of your questions are in there," he
explained. The paper was incredibly thin. Thinner than most books, and the
words were practically microscopic.

"So I have to read this whole thing?" I asked.

"Of course not!" Mr. Grisham laughed. "I've read the whole thing plenty of
times, but certain parts speak to me more than others." I knew that I
wasn't really going to read this, but I appreciated Mr. Grisham's effort to
work with me.

What was below my waist was starting to scream at me. I knew why I was here
with Mr. Grisham. I knew what I was trying to do. I wanted to get him
alone. I started racking my brain. How could I get Mr. Grisham's dick out
of his pants? I hadn't had a helping of cum since last night, and my
stomach growled at the thought.

Coach Scott was impressed by my swimming ability. Dr. Amar was impressed at
my health. Maybe I needed to impress Mr. Grisham? Flatter him?

"I really liked that last song we sang today," I blurted out.

"'Yield Not to Temptation?' What did you think of it?" he asked.

"Well, I guess I just thought it sounded nice. But I didn't really
understand it. What's...temptation?" I asked, grinding my arms into my
lap. Discomfort twinged in my eyes, as I tried to stay focused.

"Temptation...well...it's the things that you want to do...when you
probably shouldn't," he explained.

"Like...erm...what?" I asked, squirming in my seat.

"Things like eating bad food, or...well, drugs and sex, those kinds of
things." Hearing Mr. Grisham even say the word sex made my stomach spin
into knots. I jutted my hips, trying to adjust myself. "Why do you ask?"

"Um," I thought, "I-I just think that's hard to do, isn't it?"

"Well, we all have our ways," Mr. Grisham smiled lightly, starting to stand
up.

"I guess I've...been having a hard time with it," I said, somewhat down,
hoping to gain his attention. "No one's been able to really help me with
this...temptation stuff."

"Well...what do you mean? What trouble have you been having?" Mr. Grisham
sat back down.

"I-I..." I looked around, frantically for my words. What do I say? I've
been staring at you? I've gagged myself with your underwear? "I've been
having these dreams," I started.

"Dreams?"

"Yes. Really weird ones," I continued, hesitantly, rolling the small of my
back against the couch, trying to sit in a comfortable position.

"Do you want to tell me about them? It's okay if you don't," Mr. Grisham
looked concerned. His eyes pierced me. I thought of what to say.

"Well, I don't remember much," I explained. I tried to visualize a story in
my mind. One that would worry him, but also intrigue him. One that
suggested that sex was on my mind. Hell, sex was my mind. The head of my
dick chaffed against the fly of the slacks, desperately needing air.

"I'm in a dark room," my dream from that morning flashed into my
head. "There's lots of smoke." My heartbeat quickened in my chest. "And," I
thought, what happens next? "I see shadows coming closer to me."

"Shadows of what?" he asked. My feet started bouncing with anxiety.

"These...men," I admit. "They are hard to picture at first, but they get
closer and I see them really clearly." Mr. Grisham nodded knowingly. "The
men," I continue, "they don't have any clothes on."

"So, they're naked?" he asked, swallowing a bit nervously.

"Yeah, naked," I answer.

"Well, what do they look like? Do they look scary? Normal?"

"They look normal. Tall, covered in hair. Their...can I say 'penis'?"

"Yes," Mr. Grisham smiled. "That's fine."

"Well, their...penises, are really big. Scary big."

"Huh," Mr. Grisham scooted closer. I looked down at his waist, noticing the
bulge in his slacks growing. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," I exhaled. "They just start...touching me. All over. With their
hands, and mouths, and...I don't know." I pressed on my lap.  No "Hey, it's
okay," Mr. Grisham stood up and placed his hand on my shoulder for comfort,
then sat next to me on the couch.

"They whisper things as they touch me. About how they need me."

"Need you?" Mr. Grisham asked.

"Yeah. And one of the men..." I paused. Do I want to say that I'm dreaming
about him?

"Go on," he encouraged. I looked at him in the eye. All this talking about
the dreams I'd had. I feel my balls buzzing with need. My hand trembled,
and reached the crotch of my pants.

"One of them," I continued grinding the palm of my hand against my
erection. The discomfort is almost unbearable. I feel like I'm being closed
in. Claustrophobic. "Is..."

RING RING

Mr. Grisham's desk phone chirped to life, and jolted us both back to
reality. Mr. Grisham jumped up from the couch, and jogged a sort of limping
bound over to his desk. With his side to me, he picked up the phone.

"Hello? Hi, honey," he said sort of breathless voice. I looked at
Mr. Grisham frantically. I needed him back to me. This was my chance.

"Oh, yeah, we're just talking, we'll be out in a few," he
continued. Looking down, he stuck his thumb in his waistband and adjusted
himself slightly. This was my chance. I had to take charge now. My mouth
needed a dick. I needed his touch on me again. I needed him to know that it
was okay. He could feel me, like I knew he wanted to.

I abruptly stood up from the couch, taking a deep breath. With three quick
motions, I unlatched my belt, unhooked my fly, and dropped my pants to the
floor, flinging my exposed dick toward my stomach, and then pointing
directly at Mr. Grisham like the needle of a compass.

"He's fine, we just have--" Mr. Grisham turned toward me and froze, his
eyes locked on to me. Petrified. "Father," he whispered, swallowing
deeply. My dick bounced from my waist as I stood arms akimbo, the tails of
my shirt draping over the sides of my cock like a bow on a present. "I-I
have...I'll...we'll be out in a few m-more minutes. B-bye." Mr. Grisham,
quaking and fearful, hung up the phone.

I stood firmly just a few feet from him. My heart was racing. I knew I was
taking a huge risk. I could get in huge trouble. I wouldn't get to be
friends with Paul and Sarah. We'd have to move again if he really got mad
at me.

"S-Sebastian," he said softly, "w-what are you doing?"

"I-I," I shuddered, nervous, "Touch me," I said. "Touch me again,
Mr. Grisham." Mr. Grisham fiddled with his cuffs, ran his fingers through
his hair, turned away and then turned back, as if he was imagining
me. "Please," I coaxed him. "I felt you this morning. Your hand," my voice
shook as I pleaded.

"Sebastian," he spoke to me in a low voice. "You...I...p-pull your pants
back up," he shielded his eyes from me, as if I was a bright light.

"Please?" I asked even more sweetly. Like a kid asking for piece of
candy. I would plead. I would be polite. But I didn't want to beg. I needed
him to know that he wanted this just as much. I was sure of it.

"I need...I need you to pull your pants back up, Sebastian." He wouldn't
look at me. My legs as if controlled by something else, started taking
short, waddling steps toward Mr. Grisham. I slid my feet out of my shoes,
walking over to him in my socks.

Mr. Grisham turned away from me, his hand a fist pressed against his
forehead.

"Dear, Lord," I heard him whisper. I moved closer to him. "Please protect
me from this sin, Lord." I stepped closer still, feeling his warmth
radiating from his thin, white button-up. "Help me, Lord," he whispered,
fear and need weighing down his voice.

"Mr. Grisham?" I tapped his shoulder, he jerked around quickly as if the
devil himself were tapping his shoulder. I stood only a few inches from
him. My dick leaked precum, a bead of it tangling into Paul's shirt that he
lent me.

"S-Sebastian," he muttered, "I-I can't...I can't do this." His eyes flicked
across my skin, taking and stealing glances of my legs, my navel, my cock,
balls, hips. The bulge that was once round and hung like a sack in his
pants was now concealing a sheathed sword. The mound must have stretched
from the center of his pants all the way toward his hip. I knew what lay
trapped inside, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to back down until I
saw it for myself.

"L'then can I touch yours?" I asked innocently, reaching out to touch it.

"Ha, n-no!" he jumped back toward the corner of his office, bumping his
desk a bit.

"But you got to feel mine," I said, as if there were unspoken rules, that
he was supposed to follow.

"I-I'm...I'm sorry. I sh-shouldn't have...done that," he barked. I stroked
myself, as he backed away, as if I were some venomous snake.

"You didn't even ask," I said, almost scolding him. "I would've said 'yes',
if you asked."

"I-I...p-please Sebastian. Let's j-just go--" before he could finish, I
reached out and placed my hand on his erection. Mr. Grisham's eyes
instantly clenched closed, as if this were a horror movie, and I was the
monster. I kneaded my fingers, feeling the bone that lay hidden in his
trousers. The material buzzed against my fingertips, and felt moist with
sweat. The heat that radiated from him as palpable.

Mr. Grisham's breath became staggered, inhaling sharply through his teeth,
and never letting anything out. He was like a balloon getting ever-nearer
to eventually popping.

Hoping to calm him down, with a shaking and nerve-ridden hand, I reached
out and took his hand. His palms were sweaty, soft, his fingers shaking. I
guided his hand down toward my dick, keeping my hand on his.

Slowly, I rested his fingers on my penis, his wrist limply allowing his
hand to wave against my hard-on.

"Please, Lord," he whimpered. "Father, hear my prayer," his neck was
decorated in sweat and veins. I looked at his eyes, still shut tightly. I
rubbed a bit more firmly against his crotch, feeling the outline of his
dick with my fingers. His shoulder hung dejectedly as I carried his wrist
in my hand, dragging his fingers across my cock, sticky with sweat and
precum.

"Father," he whispered, exasperated, a yearning in his voice. I continued
to run my fingers across his dick the way a man rubs his feet after a long
day. Massaging anguish from him. Compelling him to feel me in return.

"Father," he whispered again, his eyes finally relaxing. He jaw becoming
slack, beginning to respond to my touch. My cock bounced between his
fingers, like a puppy asking to be played with. My balls pulsated, charging
up for a much-needed orgasm. To spill my seed. To taste his.

"Father-mmmh," he said, moaning. I felt his hand come to life, coiling
around my dick, taking me in his fingers, accepting my offer to
him. "Forgive me, Father," he whispered.

I released his wrist, and allowed him to touch me as he pleased. Eyes still
closed, he used one hand to stroke my cock, and the other to explore the
rest of me. I arched my back so that he could access me easier.

His other hand traced my hips, squeezing my ass, running up my spine,
getting wrapped up in his own son's shirt as he played with my skin,
muscle, and bones.

I used my free hand to unbutton the rest of Paul's shirt, letting it float
to the floor as he rubbed my shoulders, but kept massaging and squeezing
Mr. Grisham's hard on.

My eyes didn't know what to look at. I felt my face getting red,
overwhelmed at the idea that this was happening.

I hooked my fingers into Mr. Grisham's fly, fumbling with the button,
trying to unleash his dick. Mr. Grisham's hand left my body, and went to
his pants, and undid his fly, unzipping it for me. Reaching into his pants,
his hand disappeared as well as about half of his forearm. As though he
were pulling out a flashlight from a camping bag, his dick came spilling
before my eyes.

"W-wow," I whispered. I was only about 4-foot-10 so Mr. Grisham being as
tall as he was, only a slight drooping of my neck caused me to be inches
from Mr. Grisham's wagging member.

I took Mr. Grisham's cock in my hand. It was longer than I remembered from
yesterday, but still not as thick as my dad's. I scooped beneath
Mr. Grisham's waistband of his white briefs, fishing out his balls. They
hung heavily in my fingers and glowed a warm pink, the size of stones you
might find at the lake.

I groped Mr. Grisham's balls causing him to squeak out a tiny breath with a
soft moan trailing at the end. His eyes still shut. I coiled my fingers
around his firm cock, playing with it in my hands. Examining thoroughly,
enjoying each second that I had him melting in my small hands.

"Mr. Grisham?" I called to him softly. His eyebrows twitched in
response. "Can...can I suck on it?" I continued stroking him, watching his
face. I milked one more stroke, and a tiny glimmer of precum emerged from
the slit of his cock. His brows furrowed, his jaw twisted. "Can I?" I asked
again?

Mr. Grisham licked his lips, and nodded slightly. I smiled thankfully. I
licked my lips before flicking out my tongue, and inserting the tip of his
dick into my mouth. My head was instantly overwhelmed with the familiar
sensation of smell, touch, and taste hitting me in all parts of my
brain. The saltiness of Mr. Grisham hit me first, coupled with the smell of
Dial soap and his own natural musk. My tongue dug into the slit of his
dick, mining out the precum that I'd already seen from before.

"Ha-ahhh," Mr. Grisham sighed, responding to my mouth. I stepped closer to
him, in order to get a better angle, and sank deeper onto his long dick. I
felt Mr. Grisham's cock push toward the back of my throat. Slowly, I pulled
back, and let his dick exit my mouth. "Uh...uhhhngh," he moaned. Finally, I
let Mr. Grisham's cock fall from my mouth with a pop. For a moment, I let
it hang there. Swinging back and forth. Bright, pink, and half-way
glistening from my spit.

I looked up at Mr. Grisham, and saw him peek through his eyes, looking back
at me. With a firm hand he offered his dick to me once more, a father
guiding a spoon of cereal to his child, lifting his long shaft, pressing
the rosy tip to my lips. Locking eyes with him, I scooped his dick back up
into my mouth, sucking it slow at first, dragging my tongue across his
shaft, watching how his face reacted to my mouth.

His brows furrowed with pleasure, and I could tell that we was still
holding back. Sweat beaded around his forehead and trickled down his face,
dripping from his nose and landing on my cheek. I sank down on his dick,
further than I'd been before, and saw his face relax, his eyes go weary
with pleasure, the face of a man slowly sinking in to a warm tub. Swiftly I
bobbed up and down on his dick, tasting his sweaty meat.

"Unnngh," Mr. Grisham whined, leaning against the wall. With a weak arm, he
pulled on his necktie loosening it a bit. His hips started to move in
rhythm with my neck, pushing his dick further down my throat. "Mmmphh..."
his knees started to quake, his heels tapping against the cheap carpet.

"Hoo...ho God," he whispered. "Ungh...oh God...." his hips started to jerk
more violently, and I became more fervent in my swallowing of his dick. I
took his dick in my hand, jacking it off, milking it as my tonsils clamped
around his shaft, his long dick pushing its way down my throat. "Oh,
God. God...God yes...Jesus Christ," he whined.

I squeezed my hand around his bone of a dick, claiming his dick as
mine. Mr. Grisham's hand snagged my tangled mess of hair, and pulled me
closer, my nose bumping into the bottom buttons of his shirt.

"Oh God," whispered, "God, I'm getting..." I took both of my hands and
seized Mr. Grisham's ass, and pushed him harder into me, his balls sticking
to my chin. "Oh God. OH GOD YEAH!" he wailed.

Cum sprayed against the back of my throat, as I pulled away from
Mr. Grisham's dick, letting his seed collect in my mouth, letting it dance
along my tongue. My eyes rolled back in my head as I finally scored my
prize. This meal that Mr. Grisham was providing to me. I pressed air out my
nose, guzzling the milk that Mr. Grisham was providing.

This was real. This helping of cum filling my cheeks, flinging against my
teeth, made this real.

"G-ggggh," he cringed, still thrusting into my skull uncontrollably, his
back slamming against the wall, trying to keep his balance. His hands got
lost in my nest of hair. Cum leaked into the corners of my mouth as I kept
sucking Mr. Grisham for everything he was worth. "Uhhhuhhhh," he groaned,
legs shaking. I slowed my pace, using my hands to slowly slide
Mr. Grisham's pants to the floor, revealing the thick legs of a biker. His
thighs, dusted with thin white hair, and slight peach of a farmers tan
revealing tight calves that were cut by his tall black socks. I kneaded
Mr. Grisham's ass, firm from cycling, as I continued savoring his cock, now
speckled with cum and saliva.

Mr. Grisham's breath slowed, in relief, in ecstasy. Sweat soaked his white
shirt, revealing patches of pale skin. His tie draped against my temple,
getting lost in my nest of hair, that still held Mr. Grisham's fingers,
massaging my scalp.

I slowly lifted my head off of Mr. Grisham's dick, sipping on spit or cum
that was left behind. With a smack it drooped from my mouth, still hard,
swaying pendulously in front of me. Coyly, I tapped it with my tongue,
letting it bat me in the face. I smiled at its sturdiness.

Looking down at my own cock, precum was dangling from the head, and some
had already spotted the carpet floor.

I looked up at Mr. Grisham, at his orgasm-ridden face, worn, tired, but
still etched with laugh-lines. The traces of sharp blonde stubble were now
more visible, and his lips were wet with spit, he looked at me hungrily,
clenching his jaw.

"You aren't going to tell anyone. Are you?" he asked. I shook my head. He
placed his fingers under my chin. "Promise?" he asked eyebrows raising. I
nodded.

"Can..." he started, looking away sheepishly. "Can I kiss you?" I nodded,
smiling slightly. With that, Mr. Grisham leaned down and planted his lips
on mine. He just held himself there for a bit, and I just let him. His
breath from his nose was hot against my upper lip. He stepped closer,
hooking his jaw more firmly into my mouth, kissing me deeper. His tongue in
mine. His breath savory, like breakfast, filling my mouth, my lungs. I
moaned as I accepted his tongue and moved mine across his. His hand stiffly
ran up my side, skipping and scraping across my skin like stones on
water. He grabbed my crotch, almost crushing it in his hand. His motions
were powerful and unexpected, as though he didn't get to experience the
touch of other people very often and this was his unbridled result.

He groaned wildly as his hands and mouth explored my young body, like a dog
exposed to the scents of the wild after being cooped up inside for so
long. He let off of my face and exhaled with exasperation, overwhelmed by
sensation. My dick buzzed with need. Need for more than just a firm
handshake.

"Here," he whispered. He shoved the things off his desk, picked me up under
my arms, and sat me on the side of his desk. I opened my legs, giving him a
full view of my cock, my balls, my hole. My socks still stuck to my feet,
but other than that, I didn't leave anything to the imagination. He had me,
and I was letting him know that he was allowed to do what he wanted with
me.

Mr. Grisham, with a face of fear, pulled on my socks, littering them
randomly in the room. He then backed away from me, pacing back and forth,
getting different views of me, as though he was deciding what he should do.

"What am I doing?" he whispered to himself. "Lord, what am I doing?" I
wiggled my toes, as I took my cock in my hand and started stroking myself,
leaning on one elbow. Staring at the man in front of me, pleasuring myself
to his presence.

"Ahhh, God," he whispered before bounding toward me and diving head first
onto my dick.

"ANNGH!" I moaned. Mr. Grisham twisted his mouth around my cock, marinating
my dick with his spit. With his free hand he twisted my nipples, pinching
the tips of them. "MMMMM," I whined, musically. My legs arched themselves,
resting on his firm shoulders. Mr. Grisham lapped up my dick, slobbering
and snorting as he took in my precum, and his own mucus-y saliva from my
cock.

"Agggngh," I groaned as he took one long push taking the rest of my dick,
coughing a bit as my head pushed against the back of his throat. His teeth
scratched against my skin, so I knew he hadn't done this before. In a way,
that made it more thrilling. I crunched my stomach as he pushed into me,
gyrating my hips, my eyes bugging out of me. Mr. Grisham gagged and
coughed, which made me smirk at the idea of a groan man having a hard time
taking my much smaller boy cock.

Mr. Grisham took a sharp inhale coming up for air, and then pressed his
lips against mine again, mixing my sweat, his spit, my precum, my spit in
our mouths making a frothy mixture of all of it. He let up, leaving most of
our fluids in my mouth, and I swallowed them without thinking.

I pulled myself against his waist, straddling his hips, threading my
fingers through the gaps of his shirt. Mr. Grisham planted his lips against
my neck, nipping and sucking my salty skin, my wild hair tickling his
nose. Hanging my fingers inside his shirt, I pulled on the buttons,
loosening them from his shirt. His chest slightly exposed leading me to
unhook the other ones, until his shirt hung at his sides exposing the tight
pale torso I'd seen only through the crack of a bathroom, and my dreams.

My hands raced over his smooth skin, his soft chest and firm abs, his pink
dick still hard and moist from before. Mr. Grisham slumped his shirt to the
floor, his necktie, green and blue stripes still dangled from his neck.

Mr. Grisham dove once more onto my cock, his dick resting against my hip. I
twisted my back trying to reach it, the tips of my fingers slightly being
able to graze the tip.

"Ahhhngh, Mr.....M-mr. Grishhhh," I whined as he bobbed up and down on my
dick, towering over me. "I'm...eh...Mr. Grishuhh..." I wheezed through
bated breath. Mr. Grisham's hands whipped over my sopping wet dick as he
continued to suck me off. "I'm...I'm cumming," I whimpered before crying
with pleasure, arching my back as Mr. Grisham continued sucking me and
jacking me off. "Mmmmmph! Y-yeeah, G-gguh," I groaned incoherently.

"Mmm," Mr. Grisham moaned in delight. "Tastes...kinda good." Mr. Grisham's
full body stooping over me. I leaned in, giving him a kiss, tasting my own
cum, and lapping my tongue against his lips, picking up and trace of cum
from his mouth.

I leaned forward straddling Mr. Grisham's waist, wrapping my legs around
him. Pulling on his neck, I pulled him into me again, getting him to make
out with me a bit more. He pushed his cock against mine, laying it on top
of me. It looked cartoonish next my dick with how long it was.

With a swift motion, Mr. Grisham scooped me up from his desk and carried me
over to the couch we were sitting on before. Carefully he sat down on the
couch with me on his lap, pulling me into his face and sliding his tongue
into my mouth once more. I felt his cock sliding between my ass, awakening
my hole, needing to be stimulated.

I needed more.

I sat up and twisted myself so that my torso lay flat against
Mr. Grisham's, and my face directly in front of his cock. My ass burned,
needing to be cooled off. I stuck Mr. Grisham's cock inside my mouth,
diving half way down what had to be eleven inches of hard meat.

"Gawwwwd, yeah, boy," he whispered. "Ohhhhgh, Sebastian, s-s...suck my
cock. God, yeah," he growled with lust, bouncing his legs, guiding his cock
further into my throat. I'd never had a cock as long as his before, so it
scared me to try and take all of it it my mouth, but I was determined to
give it a shot.

"Y-yeah, deeper, son," he pleaded, "Deeperrrgh," I wound his hips, bouncing
my head in his lap like some kind of game. Slowly I began to open my throat
a bit more, letting him move deeper inside.

As I sank deeper onto his cock, I smeared my dick against his sternum,
grinding my balls agasint his collar bone, wagging my ass in his face.

"Oh...I...I wanna..." he sniffled, catching his breath as I swallowed his
dick more slowly. "I wanna taste you..." he said, blinded by lust. His
hands moved around my ass, playing with how my small muscles tightened and
contracted in his hands, as he played with my body as though it were clay,
kissing the small of my back and the sides of my hips.

I widened my legs, giving him a clearer view of my hole, resting my knees
on his shoulders, clinging to him like a spider on a wall, still enjoying
his dick in my mouth.

Suddenly, I felt the familiar warmth of a tongue slap against my bare hole.

"Mmmmph," I groaned around his dick, letting him know that's what I
wanted. His tongue, timidly at first poked and tasted, but it wasn't long
before he was driving his tongue, with what I could tell from it being in
my mouth was long, snake-like, and welcome inside of me.

My anal ring gripped his tongue as it slid in and around my hole. I pushed
myself deeper down on Mr. Grisham's meat, still not able to reach the base
like I'd been wanting to. Mr. Grisham sucked and kissed and spat on my
hole, as though he were a completely different person. A person taken
control by his vices, and he was loving each second of it.

"Arrrummmph," he growled and grumbled ravenously as my hole seized his
tongue, was prodded by his long, bird-like nose. I wagged my ass in his
face, tantalizing him to want more.

"Mmmmmmmm!" I whined in response, gagging on Mr. Grisham's long cock. Drool
vomited from my mouth, drenching his pole and balls and the carpet
below. "MMMmmmm-ore," I pleaded through the gaps of air in my mouth,
plugged full with Mr. Grisham's meat.

"More?" he questioned. He took another long dive into my hole before
finally withdrawing and replacing his tongue with his finger.

"Ahhhhmmm," I groaned, bobbing up and down on Mr. Grisham's dick faster
than before. Jacking him off with my throat. His finger snaked and
slithered inside of me, searching, much like my own father's had before.

"Ahhhmmm...mmmuhhh," I continued, finally reaching the point where I was
begging.

"Y'want more?" he asked, practically testing me. I nodded ferociously.

"Mm-hmmph," I whined. I heard the smack of spit leaving fingers, and felt
what had to have been two of Mr. Grisham's fingers pushing into my
hole. Where in the past, I would have recoiled in pain, this time, I
pressed back encouraging to forage deeper into my ass, searching for that
spot that I knew would send me over the edge.

"HMMMMMM," I roared, winding my hips, pushing back on Mr. Grisham's
fingers.

"Oh, God, boy...yer mouth is....like...nothin' I've ever felt....Dear
Jesus..." I pushed on, sinking myself further onto the pastors cock. I
could almost feel his pubic hair on my nose.

"Mmm...mmmughh," I cried.

"E-even...more?" he asked between breaths, pushing his hips into me.

"Mmmm.....mm-hmmm," my mouth smacked on Mr. Grisham's cock as I continued
to devour him inch by inch. My eyes wandered over to the table in front of
us spotting a large metal paperweight in the shape of a cross.

It looked like the perfect size to fit in my ass. While Mr. Grisham's
fingers felt great, this thing looked like it was long enough and thick
enough to give me that feeling I was looking for. It had to have been no
more than eight inches in length, with the thickness of one of those police
sticks.

As Mr. Grisham sucked on my balls and fingered my ass, I reached for the
metal cross, gripping it in my hands. Letting off of Mr. Grisham's dick, I
swallowed the long end of the cross, soaking it in my spit, stroking the
pastor's slick muscle in my free hand.

I swung my arm back toward Mr. Grisham, offering the metal tool, the
dripping metal hung loosely in my hand.

"More," I whispered. I felt the cross lift from my hands, and then I went
back to swallowing Mr. Grisham's cock. Sweat was pouring from my forehead
and running down my arms and back. Mr. Grisham's skin stuck with salty
sweat, too. My cock rubbing up against his chest was pushing me over the
edge. "P-put..." I sunk on his cock, feeling the head of his dick pressing
against the back of my throat. I still wasn't able to swallow all of it,
but there was still time. I came back for air.

"Put...put it in," I demanded breathlessly. Mr. Grisham's fingers slid out
of my fingers, leaving my hole a buzzing flower, winking in his
face. Mr. Grisham gave my asshole a few more tender kisses, before finally
taking the cross to my ass.

At first the metal felt sharp on my skin, but as Mr. Grisham guided the
rounded metal top slowly inside. I drove my face into Mr. Grisham's cock,
painting every surface of it with my spit.

"Z'at hurt, son?" Mr. Grisham asked, winding his hips a bit to get more
comfortable, his dick punching me in the back of my throat. I shook my head
"no" in response. It was different, but it didn't hurt. I bucked my ass a
bit, encouraging him to give me more. I felt the metal slide deeper into my
ass, my eyes fluttering, confused, dazed, euphoric.

"M-more?" Mr. Grisham asked hesistantly, still bouncing his hips a bit.

"Mmmmph," I growled in response. Mr. Grisham pushed it deeper, and that
fiery wave of pain and pleasure that I remember from when my dad fingered
me was back. Moans whistled from my nose as I plunged deeper onto
Mr. Grisham's dick.

"I...I can't push it in and further," Mr. Grisham panted. I felt the arms
of the cross against my nuts and the peak of my ass. I squeeze the cross in
my ass, grinding my muscles against it, feeling it rub against my prostate.

I reached over to Mr. Grisham's wrist and encouraged him to move the cross
back and forth, which he followed.

"Oh-h-h," he whined, as my mouth worked on Mr. Grisham's salty skin. A web
of spit, mucus, precum, and sweat was entangling my chin, lips, and neck as
well as Mr. Grisham's cock and inner thighs.

Mr. Grisham pushed and pulled on the cross, and as I felt the solid shaft
slide in and out of me, color and stars started to cloud my vision. My
balls and cock jolted with pleasure, precum sticking between Mr. Grisham
and I like fly paper.

"Y-yeah, boy," Mr. Grisham panted as he bounced his hips, his balls dancing
below the base of his cock. I gripped Mr. Grisham's legs, and dove in as
deeply as I could. Finally, lapping up the final inch of Mr. Grisham's
pole, the head of Mr. Grisham's dick popped into place, halfway toward my
stomach. My lips touched his waist, my mouth and throat completely plugged,
his pubes tickling my nose.

"Ahhhh f-f....faaath...fatherrrgh," Mr. Grisham groaned and
whined. "Yer...gonna....make..." Mr. Grisham grinded his hips slowly, by
his cock couldn't go further into me.

I'd mastered sucking Mr. Grisham's dick. Precum leaked into my gullet,
tears streamed from my eyes. Mr. Grisham more furious drove the metal cross
into my ass, twisting and bending it to hit certain spots of my insides, as
his voice cried with pleasure.

"Hmmmph!" I harmonized with Mr. Grisham's cries as cum built up in my
balls, ready to spill all over Mr. Grisham's chest.

"God...god dammit! Jesus fucking Chrrrrrist!" Mr. Grisham's cock inflated
with blood, twitching in my mouth.

"MMMMMPH!" I cried, as Mr. Grisham continued to punch the cross into my
ass. My balls tightened against my prick which pressed against
Mr. Grisham's body, sliding against his skin. "HMM...HMMMPH!" Cum shot from
my dick at a speed I haven't felt before, dotting Mr. Grisham's skin with
my white seed.

"I...I'm..." Mr. Grisham said exhaustedly. In my orgasm-induced haze I
lifted off of Mr. Grisham's cock, and started jerking him off
furociously. "AhhhUUNNNGH!" he roared as cum sprayed against my face, my
eyelids, forehead, eyelashes, nose, dripping with Mr. Grisham's milk, as
spurt after spurt surged from his cock.

"Ahh...ah-hahaaaa," Mr. Grisham sighed as though sitting in the cart of a
roller coaster after it ended. We both caught out breath. Mr. Grisham
slowly pulled the cross from my ass.

"Ahhhngeeeh!" I whined. Something that large coming out of me felt bizarre,
but now that it was out my knees quaked. My face was almost recognizable in
cum. I quickly turned to face Mr. Grisham, recognizing my cum on his
chest. I looked at him carefully, straddling his waist, his softening cock
beating beneath my hole. His eyes were bloodshot, his face was drenched in
sweat, his hair matted to forehead.

I leaned forward to kiss him, and hesitant at first he reciprocated,
sticking his tongue in my mouth, his breath reeked of my skin, my hole, and
now his own cum, as we shared the meal of semen that we made together. We
spent time licking away the evidence of our encounter.

With the cross--still wet from my hole--in his hand, he leaned back,
relaxing his head against the back of the couch.

"We," he started sort of distant. "we have to...get going," he said, a
tinge of disappointment.

"Aw," I whined like a kid being told it's time to go home from the
park. "We can't keep playing?" I asked, hopefully, putting my hand on his
cock once more.

"Ahhhh," Mr. Grisham rolled his eyes. "N-no, Sebastian," he said as if
coming out of a trance. He pushed me gently to the side of the couch and
stood up, making a mad dash to his clothes, quickly getting
dressed. "C'mon, we have...we have to get going."

I nodded my head understandingly. And got up, my legs still somewhat
noodley, and made my way to the pile of clothes left next to Mr. Grisham's
desk.

We got dressed in silence. A kind of silence that made me think that I was
in trouble. I would come to learn that this is a part of sex that most
people experience. The ritual of cleaning up, of getting back to normal,
coming home from that euphoric escape.

Before leaving, Mr. Grisham and I prayed. I felt like it was more for him
than it was for me.

"Father, please forgive us for committing this sinful act," his eyes were
shut, his hands folded with mine. My dick stirred in Paul's slacks, just
from the touch of Mr. Grisham's hands on mine. He went on a bit more,
complementing God, praising him, and apologizing for having sex with me as
well as asking him to forgive me.

I didn't think I needed forgiveness.

When we walked out to the parking lot, Mrs. Grisham and Paul were waiting
for us. Everyone else had gone home.

"There you boys are!" Mrs. Grisham, slapped her hands against her thighs,
exasperated.

"We...we had a long talk, right Sebastian?" Mr. Grisham patted me on the
shoulder.

"Yep!" I responded.

"That was pretty long!" Paul chimed in.

"Uh-huh, nice and long," I agreed, realizing I was talking about
Mr. Grisham's cock, and not our "talk" at all.

The drive home was normal. Mr. and Mrs. Grisham gossiped about the
churchgoers, Paul and I talked about superheros that we used to like, but
no longer do.

By the time we got home, Mrs. Grisham had outlined the entire day of chores
and cleaning. Paul complained, and Mr. Grisham reminded him that Sarah will
have to help, too.

"Yeah, I have chores to do at my house, too," I commented.

Mr. Grisham pulled into the driveway, crunching the gears to park. "I'll
make sure Sebastian gets home safely. Don't start the fun without me!" he
joked.

When we got home, I knocked on the front door, and when the door opened my
dad was wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, safety googles, and
gloves. Sawdust was tangled in his chest hair and staining fluid decorated
his tan skin.

My cock instantly started growing as I stared at the outline of my dad's
dick nestled in his sweatpants.

I was happy to be home.

"Hey, Mark," my dad said removing his gloves and holding out his hand to
shake it. His voice was like stone compared to Mr. Grisham, whose voice was
like reeds. Almost musical. Seeing them both together made my stomach turn.

"Hi there, Gary," Mr. Grisham took his hand, shaking it firmly. "We just
got home from church. It was a good day!"

"Everything alright with Sebastian last night?" Dad asked almost expecting
a bad report.

"Well," Mr. Grisham started hesitantly. I looked at him. What was he going
to say? I didn't do anything wrong! "Actually, that's why I'm here. I was
wondering if you and I could talk in private for a moment." Dad looked
puzzled. Almost as surprised as I was.

"Erm...yeah, sure. Seb, you go in. I'll be there in a minute."

"Yes sir," I said, somewhat somberly. Was Mr. Grisham going to tell him
what happened? Would my dad be upset? He hasn't been so far. Why would he
be now?

I went upstairs to change clothes. I wanted to wear something comfortable,
but also something that showed my boy body a bit more for Dad. The idea
that I was thinking about what to wear, like someone about to go on a date
make me laugh. My heart raced with excitement at the idea of what Dad and I
would get to do today. I went with my typical shorts and a t-shirt with a
pair of briefs.

"SEBASTIAN?" I heard my dad yell. His voice sent electricity through my
veins.

"Yeah?" I yelled back.

"GET DOWN HERE." He sounded furious at me. I was almost scared to leave my
room, but I knew I wouldn't be able to defy him. I heard the sound of the
garage door slam shut.

As I got closer, I heard the sound of tools clinking against the floor,
things being kicked, like he was fighting a rabid animal in there. I slowly
opened the door to see my dad, muscles heaving, sweat coating his back, and
the garage a mess, except for what looked to be the table Dad was working
on at the beginning of summer. It looked like it was done, and now he was
working on another piece.

"Dad?" I asked timidly, shutting the garage door. He didn't say
anything. Just kept breathing deeply. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"What," he started softly at first. "What did you do?"

"I...what do you mean?"

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" he roared, voice shaking the walls of the garage. I
jumped back in fear, my stomach twisting in my gut.

"I...I don't..." tears formed in my eyes.

"Why the FUCK is Mr. Grisham telling me that you aren't allowed at their
house ever again, huh?"

"I don't KNOW!" I shouted back. But I did know. Mr. Grisham didn't want me
to be around. He didn't like what we did. What it did to him. What he did
to me.

"He said," he started back, walking toward me slowly. "He said that you
were a 'bad influence' on Paul, and that you guys were getting into
trouble." He stopped only a few inches from me. I couldn't look at
him. "But I bet there's somethin' else goin on. Right?" I couldn't look at
him. I looked at the floor. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. Not in front
of my dad like this. "RIGHT?" he shouted.

"Y-yes," I whimpered. Trying to stay strong.

"Fuckin' shit," he said turning away, throwing his gloves among the piles
of mismatched clutter in the garage. "So what," he turned back toward
me. "Y'just gonna go around jumpin' on the first dick y'see forever?" Shame
pulled over me like a heavy sheet.

"Y'just gonna go around terrorizin' people's families, Seb? Fuckin' with
people's lives? Being a fuckin' spoiled little faggot?"

"Shut up!" I shouted, tears welling in my eyes. I'd never yelled at my dad
before.

"Th'fuck you just tell me t'do?" he started, stepping closer.

"I...I didn't," I started.

"Wha...you didn't mean to go around gettin' yer face fucked by everyone?"
he taunted. "I bet all yer seeing when you look at me is my cock," he spat,
grabbing his junk.

"No," I replied, looking away.

"Y'can't resist it," Dad teased, stroking himself through his pants.

"You can't either!" I shot back. "You can't keep your hands off of me! You
said it yourself earlier, so why are you giving me such a hard time?"

"That's different, boy, and you better watch it with that mouth," he walked
toward me, pointing a finger at my chest.

"HOW? HOW IS THAT DIFFERENT? HOW IS THAT DIFFERENT AT ALL?"

"YOU'RE A BOY!" he screamed, holding on to my face, spit flying out of his
mouth. I locked myself in his eyes. "Yer...yer just a fuckin'...kid." He
pushed me away, looking at me, almost in horror. I caught myself against
the finished table. I wiped my face where my dad's hands were. Hearing my
dad yell like that normally would make me afraid, but it only made me want
him more. My cock pounded and throbbed in my pants for my father.

I walked up to him, almost limping and wrapped my arms around his
waist. Burying my face just below his chest.

"No, Seb," my dad squirmed, trying to break away from my, but I just held
on tighter. "Stoppit," he said again. But I just bore deeper into his body
hair, feeling the sweat that had settled onto his skin streak against my
face. Dad's dick pressed against my belly, which I could feel getting
harder. I stood on my tiptoes and reached at my dad's nipple with my jaw
like a giraffe to a far-away branch. "God...fuckin'...cut it out, boy," but
I chomped on my dad's nipple, worshipping his chest as I felt I should.

"Unhh," he grumbled, putting his hands on my shoulder. "Fuggin' Christ,
Seb," he whispered. His dick grinded against my body, the head peeking out
of the waistband of his sweatpants. I clawed into his pectorals as I ran my
mouth down his stomach. My eye was on the prize: Dad's cock, already
presenting a bead of precum for me. With almost athletic ease, I sunk my
head onto my dad's dick, swallowing the entire thing in one ambitious gulp,
the head punching past my tonsils, his balls dangling from my chin, my face
smothered in his pubes.

"AAAAHHHNGH!" Dad shouted with surprise. My eyes bulged in shock. What
normally would have taken me a long time easing into his dick, I swallowed
it like it were a straw in a glass of Coke. Shutting my eyes, I
relinquished some of my weight, resting my throat on my dad's cock as if I
were a fish being dragged to the surface of a lake on a taught line. My
throat embraced my father's meat as though it were a natural part of
me. "Oh....oh fuck," Dad's legs quivered. I slowly withdrew Dad's cock from
my face, drool seeping from my lips as I made my retreat. Dad groaned in
pleasure, tightening his hips and ass, face weary with ecstasy.

When I finally let my dad's dick free from my mouth, leaving it to swing
with strands of my spit melting off of it. I looked into my dad's eyes,
lips and chin wet with spit.

"Gahh, fuck," my dad growled and pulled my face to his, matching my lips
and tongue with his, sucking my teeth. Dad wrapped his left arm around my
back shoving his hand down the back of my pants, fingers resting in the
crease of my ass, dragging my body up his, as we continued to swap
spit. Eventually I rested on my dad's naked hip as though I were a sack of
fertilizer. My hands clasped around my dad's neck as I let his tongue
explore my mouth some more, allowing him to suck on my chin, to taste the
parts of me he hadn't yet. Ears, forehead, nose, neck, washing my skin with
his kiss.

"Y'want me to finger ya?" Dad hummed into my neck. I humped my dad's side
eagerly, still using Dad's sturdy palm as my chair, his bicep and forearm
supporting my back.

"Y-yeah, Dad...finger me," I whined pleasantly. At my command, his
fingertips fumbled their way into my hole.

"Gyunnh!" I whimpered, eyes fluttering as Dad's fingers began to glide
between the silky walls of my hole.

"Yyyyeah," Dad growled lifting and and letting me ride atop the tips of his
fingers, his shoulder muscles tightening with each of his lifts. "Urrgh,
fuck...fuck yeah," Dad's face tightened as he controlled my ninety pounds
with the pressing of a couple of fingers. My toes curled in anguish and
pleasure, my heels pulling on my dad's sweatpants sending them to the
floor.

"D-dad, yer...getting me...mmmph...close," my voice whistled in the garage.

"Ha," he laughed, "Not yet, yer not." His fingers left my ass, and I
exhaled in exasperation. I clung to my dad's waist, desperately, wanting
him to give me more.

"P-put em back, Dad," I whined. Dad carried me over to the finished table
he'd been working on.

"We need t'work on yer control," Dad grumbled, setting me on the table like
a bag of groceries, letting my limbs spill over the edge.

I pouted my lip a bit, remembering the last time Dad said I needed to work
on my control. How he pressed and prodded and pushed my to the breaking
point, and then left me seconds from an orgasm, to writhe and squirm at his
command, aching to cum.

"Lay down, Seb," he instructed, "on yer back." I did as I was told,
reclining onto the smooth finished wood of the table. Dad lifted my legs,
exposing my hole, my dick swaying as I fell into place. Dad's hands ran
against my sides, my stomach, my stiff prick. My lips buzzed with my
moaning, my toes curling with the response of my father's touch.

Dad's fingers circled my hole as he stooped over my taking my cock in his
warm mouth.

"Ahhhhh," I sighed, resting my hands on the back of my dad's head, wetting
my fingers with his sweat. Dad was getting good at caring for my dick,
using his hand to stroke me as he swallowed me whole. Dad pressed his
finger against my asshole, sneaking through the tight ring of my
anus. "Unnnngh, D-daaaad," I whined, lifting my arms over my head,
relinquishing myself to his control. Dad's finger started entering me, and
in this position, I could feel him more powerfully than earlier. Colors
started to flower in my vision as I felt my dad's fingertip knock against
my prostate, milking me of any precum I had stored in my balls.

"Ohhhhhherrrrgh!" I growled ravenously, jutting my hips, floating almost
into my dad's mouth, letting him control me like a puppet. Without even
asking, dad snuck a second finger into me, and it wasn't until I felt his
shoulder pushing his arm forward that my eyes bugged out and let out a
pleasure-induced bark that rang throughout the garage.

"Guess that felt good," Dad remarked, forehead beginning to rain with
sweat.

"MMmmm," was all I could say, running my hand through my dad's thinning
hair. Dad slowly stroked me while twisting his fingers in my ass. My jaw
dropped, eyes rolling back in my head. My hips danced along with my
father's push and pull of his arm, my legs slowly bent and beat like the
wings of a condor. Dad alternated between licking and sucking my cock and
slowly stroking me. Without thinking I stuck my fingers in my mouth,
needing something to suck, tasting my dad's sweat on my skin.

"Y'wanna cum?" Dad asked stroking and prodding me faster. I nodded,
zombified, desperate, my hole tightening around my dad's finger.

"Uggh...D-dad, I'm so close...I'm gonna c-c--" Dad pulled his fingers out
of me and let my cock go, leaving me to stiffen, paralyzed on the table,
groaning in agonizing pleasure.

"D-DAAD!" I belted, "C-COME AWWWN," I whined.

"Not ready yet, son," Dad grumbled, kicking off his sweatpants. "Here," he
said walking over to the other side of the table where my head was, his
cock bouncing with each step. "Y'want som'a this?" Dad said, offering his
heavy dick, hard, not having cum since the last time we saw each other.

"Uh-huh," I said wearily, eyes blinking away sweat. Dad stepped forward, a
shadow in the dim light of the garage, pulling under my arms a bit causing
my head to hang off the table. Resting his dick on my face, I got to
work. I tasted, smelled, rubbed and worshiped this dick.

My mouth hung open slightly smiling, and Dad took the chance to fill my
skull with his cock, pushing air out of my nose. Dad took one step closer
and pushed his entire dick into me, growling with pleasure as he finished.

"Agghhhh, y-yeeeah, Seb. Th-that fuckin' mouth a yers," he grumbled,
pushing his hips into me, his balls blinding me as they stuck to my
face. "Gahh, fuck, son," his voice whipped into the air. I reached toward
my dad's ass, helping him push further into me, feeling the force of his
cock on the brink of suffocating me.

I didn't care. It was as if I needed my father's cock to breathe.

Dad leaned over me, kissing and biting my nipples, his mouth leading to my
dick, swallowing me up like a vacuum. Both of us grunting as we took our
fill of dick.

"Mmmmph...mmph," Dad growled, leaving my dick for a moment, smacking his
lips like a boy eating candy. "This...ergh, this is called, the 69, boy,"
he instructed. I understood why. We were two numbers, endlessly coiling
into ourselves.

"Mmmmm," I responded affirmatively. Dad's soaked my already sweaty body
with his own sweat, as though we were salamanders in the creek. We slid
effortlessly together, fitting into one another perfectly.

"Ughhh, Seb," Dad breathed into the stuffy garage, as he continued to stuff
my face. I'd gotten so relaxed at this that I could suck my father for
hours if he wanted me to. My jaw no longer ached from holding my mouth open
for a long time, my throat no longer needed to gag as his meat pushed
further down my gullet, I knew how to circulate my breath so that I
wouldn't get fatigued or tired out.

I felt like a superhero.

Dad slowly took his dick out of my mouth. Catching his breath, wiping his
sweaty forehead with his sweaty arm.

"Shit, it's hot in here," he said.

"Yeah, Dad," I agreed. My body was a glistening crystal. Looking down, I'd
never seen myself look as bright and shiny, even after a swim. My chest and
stomach muscles had started to tighten. A superhero. That's how I felt.

"Put yer legs up again," Dad commanded. So I did. Dad came over to the
other side again, feeling my hole with his fingertips, sliding one in just
for fun. Just to hear my breath sharpen for a moment. Dad pulled me by my
hips so that my hole was pressing against his dick. My knees quaked at the
feeling of something so powerful next to my hole.

Dad leaned over me, our dicks grinding against each other, our torsos
gliding against each other like perfectly oiled machines. Dad wrapped my
legs around his waist, groaning, almost with frustrated agony, like he
wanted more from me.

"Mmmmm," he growled, running his dick across my hole, like hot dog to a
bun. I whispered unintelligibly with pleasure.

"I...I love you, Dad," I whined softly.

"Wassat, son?" he asked.

"I...I love you, D-Dad," I said a bit stronger, still moaning from my dad's
cock pressing against my hole.

"I remember...." he went on, "I remember yer first word."

"Y-yeah?" I asked.

"Y'said, 'Dada," he smiled. "Yer mom was so pissed." I laughed
slightly. "She wanted it to be 'mama' or som'n like that," he remarked,
slapping his dick against my hole. "B'nope," he said softly, "just 'dada."

I locked eyes with him.

"Then 'daddy.' And now here y'are," he said. "Callin' me 'Dad," he
marveled, looking at my body, running his hands across my chest and
stomach.

I laughed, "Dada?" I asked in disbelief. Dad nodded and leaned over me, our
sweaty bodies pressed together, and locked his lips with mine. I ran my
hands across his body, feeling the way his back twitched as he pressed
against me. His dick was like a match against my hole, sliding across
it. Sparks, I knew had to be falling from the ceiling. I moaned into my
dad's mouth, the sensation of Dad's penis poking and prodding me there was
almost unbearable.

"Ah fuckin' hell," Dad whispered, his breath hot against mine. "I
w-wanna..." Dad continued grinding against me, as I fought for more of his
kisses, reaching for his lips like a fish for food. "Grrrrrrrr," he
growled, almost in frustration.

"Wha...what is it, Dad?" I asked, looking into his eyes, practically
melting into the table.

"I wanna fuck you, son," Dad said, gruff with need, still rocking against
me.

"What's..." I paused, pinching my dad's nipples, feeling the soggy hair of
his stomach against mine. "I don't know what means," I admitted. "I thought
f-f...." I paused unsure if I should cuss in front of my dad since he'd
told me to watch my mouth. "I thought...that word was a bad word," I
explained.

"It is," he said pulling away from me slightly. "It's also when yer dick
inside'a somethin,'" he explained. "'Fuck' means a lot'a things," he
continued.

"Okay, I get it," I said with a smile. "So, what do you wanna f-f...fuck?"
I asked shrugging.

"I wanna fuck your ass, boy," Dad said leaning close to me again, taking my
tongue in his mouth, and stroking my cock.

"M-my...ass?" I asked, almost scared. "Won't that hurt?"

Dad's dick was resting next to mine, and the size difference was almost
laughable. His massive rod next to my much punier boy dick; it made my
stomach twist. I'd only had fingers and well...other things. Could I handle
my dad's cock?

"I won't if you don't want me to," he said.

"No!" I barked, grabbing his thick cock in my hand. "I-I'm just...your
really big, Dad," I admitted sheepishly.

"I won't hurt you, Sebastian," Dad said, sweetly. I looked at my dad. His
body, his arms and chest like a roof over me. His cock, heavy and
desperately needing to bust, lay twitching next to mine. I knew that if I
said yes, my father and I would never be the same. That him fucking me
would be a level of sex that would be unlike anything I'd experienced. That
when I looked at him, I may only be able to see him as the man that fucked
me. The man who fucked me for the first time. There would never be another
first time.

I wanted it. I needed it.

"Okay, Dad," I said, furrowing my brow. Dad smiled, and kissed me again.

"We're gonna take it slow," he instructed, kissing me down my neck, my
chest, nipples abdomen.

"Annnngh," I groaned, has his mouth sank on my cock, and leaving it behind
with a slow slurp. Dad kissed my hole a bit before driving his tongue into
me, causing me to whine with pleasure. He let his drool and sweat coat his
fingers and pressed them into me as well, one then two at a time. The
twists and pangs of nervousness seemed to melt away as Dad fed more of
himself into my ass.

"Y'okay?" Dad asked, preparing a third finger to slowly shove into me.

"I-I'm...ennngh...I-I...Yeah, Dad, I'm okay," I shook against the
table. The sun that had at one point peeked through the small windows of
the garage, was beginning to fade, leaving us bathed in an amber glow of
the garage light over head.

"Y'ready?" Dad asked in between sucking on my cock and balls. "Y'ready fer
my t'fuck you?" The words made my stomach turn with excitement.

I nodded, "Yeah, Dad. I think so." Dad stood up from behind my ass, leaving
my legs still splayed open, presenting my hole to him. He walked over to a
drawer his ten-inches of meat bouncing from his waist. When he came back I
saw in his hand a small tub of petroleum jelly, probably used for lubing up
gears or cranks in his shop.

"What's that for?" I asked, craning my neck toward him.

"T'make it easier," he said. "It'll feel a lot better, trust me." I rested
my head back on the table. I trusted him. Of course I did.

Dad dipped his fingers into the tub of jelly coated his cock with it,
making it shine with a sort of artificial slickness.

"Yer sure?" Dad asked one more time. My eyes locked on to Dad's weapon of a
cock. I imagined it inside me. How it might feel. If I would be able to
handle it. Something deep inside of my buzzed with need, something that a
tongue, a finger couldn't satisfy. My cock bounced with excitement. I knew
I had to try.

I nodded, "I'm ready, Dad." With those words Dad stepped closer to me,
rubbing my hole with his lubed up fingers, sending waves of pleasure though
my bones. My body was soaked in sweat, I had to wipe my moppy hair away
from my face, letting it spill from my head and onto the table.

"Just take deep breaths," he instructed calmly. I took a deep breath he
slipped his fingers into me, dragging them in and out with ease.

"Ahhhhngh!" I groaned, feeling my dad's fingers tickle my prostate. Precum
glinted at the head of my dick. Dad pulled his fingers out, and replaced
them with the familiar sensation of his cock pressed against my hole. I
took a deep breath, keeping my eyes clenched closed.

"Tell me when to stop," he said.

"O-okay," I winced.

With that Dad began his slow journey into my ass. I continued taking deep
breaths just like Dad told me to. At first it felt almost like nothing. It
somewhat tickled having Dad push himself there. Dad dipped his hips a bit
more, and I felt a bit more of him begin to enter me.

"GYAH!" I shouted as a sharp pain seered through my body. I pressed my hand
into my Dad's stomach, clawing at his body hair. He froze where he was. I
spit breath at him. Short, shallow, frantic breaths.

"Shhhh," Dad said, calming me down, taking my cock in his hand, and slowly
stroking me. I did my best to calm down, at least until the pain was
gone. Once my breath was under control, I felt him ease into me a bit more.

"AH-AHHH!" I cried again, that stinging pain was back. "P-pull out pull out
pull out," I begged. Dad pulled away. That in itself was a different
sensation. I wasn't used to having things move into me like that, much less
pulled out. It felt like my insides had to have been on the floor.

"Y'okay?" Dad asked leaning close to me.

"Y-yeah...it just...it hurts a lot," I admitted. Dad kept stroking my cock,
as well as his, keeping his erection full of life. "How far was that?"

Dad laughed, "Wasn't even the tip, son."

"Ohhh man," I whined covering my eyes. I felt discouraged. There was no way
I could get my dad's whole dick in me. He was too thick, too big,
too...everything. I wasn't gonna be able to make it happen for him.

"First time..." he said. "First time's not easy. Y'just gotta relax, keep
breathing." I looked at my dad dejected.

"I guess," I sighed, adjusting my position.

"'Member when you couldn't even take my finger?" he asked. I nodded. Dad
stuck his finger all the way in my hole until the palm of his hand spanked
against my ass.

"UNNNGH!" I squeaked with pleasure, my eyes wide with ecstasy.

"Just gotta go slow," he coached, fingering me slowly for a bit, reminding
me of what I want, before finally retreating his hand away from my hole. I
nodded breathlessly. I was aching to cum and all the pressing and prodding
my dad was giving me made my balls feel heavy and ripe. "Want me to try
again?" he asked.

"Yeah, Dad," I said, a bit more motivated. He leaned into me, kissing my
lips, his stubble scratching my face, his hand gripping my cock
firmly. Backing away, he focused on his dick, pressing it again against my
hole. I replayed his advice in my head to relax and breathe.

Slowly Dad sank into my hole. I pressed my fingers into my dad's stomach
when I wanted him to pause, so that I could get used to it. And shook my
head no when I wanted him to pull out.

The pain was frustrating. I wanted my father's cock. I wanted it so badly
just to slip right into me. I wanted it to be easy. At points my dick even
softened.

"It's okay, Seb," he said after a while of going back and forth like this
with only being able to get just the tip of his dick inside of me. "Maybe
yer just not ready yet."

"No," I whined. "I can do it," I said.

"One more try," Dad said, stroking his cock again, painting with a fresh
coat of the petroleum jelly. I took a deep breath. Determined.

Dad's cock rested against my hole, and once again, I replayed my Dad's
advice. I relaxed. I told my hole to let my dad in. Stop trying to keep him
out. I relaxed my hole as though I were sitting in class. As though I were
sleeping. As though there wasn't a monster cock trying to crawl inside me.

"Ohhhh," my dad groaned, which I hadn't heard him do yet. "Y'okay?" Dad
asked.

"Y-yeah," I said shortly through a deep breath. Dad swung his arms over me,
letting his cock rest inside of my ass for a moment. He locked eyes with
me, sinking into my face for a moment, letting our tongues wrestle. I felt
my cock springing alive once more. His hands brushed my chest, leaving
streaks from his fingers in my sweaty body. My legs shook a bit, having
held them out for so long.

Suddenly I felt my dad push a bit more. I inhaled sharply. Even though he
could have moved a millimeter, my entire body took the force of it. I
nodded slowly, letting my dad was okay and kept relaxing, kept breathing.

"Yer ass is so fuckin' tight," Dad commented. "Gotta relax a bit more,
Seb." I nodded taking deep breaths, loosening the grip of my hole on his
dick. I knew he had to be further than before. Maybe he was a couple of
inches in.

"Keep goin', Dad," I commanded. Dad looked down at his cock, watching it
disappear as he dipped his hips a bit more.

"Ahhhhhngh," I gritted my teeth. I felt Dad's cock pressing deeper into me,
and that initial sharp and piercing pain seemed to be replaced with
something different. Something strange. An incredibly intense pressure was
building up inside me. I furrowed my brow holding my dad with my ass in
this moment.

"F-feels good, son?" Dad asked, taking in his own gulps of air.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I think so, Dad," my words were slurred, as if I were drunk.

"Y'want more?" he asked.

"Y-yeah," I said, with a twisted smile. Dad slowly pushed his dick in a bit
more. "AHHHNGH," I gasped, taking in air, remembering to relax.

"I'm about half-way in," Dad said.

"Only half?!" I said, incredulously.

"Ha, yeah," Dad said with a laugh. I sighed, frustrated. I was sure he was
all the way in. "Want me to pull out?" Dad asked.

"N-no!" I barked. "I can take more," I said seriously, taking my cock in my
hand. Dad nodded, and started pushing a bit more.

"Mmmmmm," I whimpered. "Mmmm, keep going keep going," I said, voice
strained. Dad pushed a bit more, stepping closer to me. "K-keep
going...k-keep go..." I said exhausted. "Keep going....keep..." almost in a
trance.

"Seb, I'm in," Dad announced. "I mean...I'm in as far as yer mom let's me,"
he said.

"H-how far?" I asked.

"Y'got," he put his hand down between my hole and his cock, "this much," he
held up two fingers showing about three inches of air between them. I held
seven inches of my father inside of me. It was exhilarating.  "How
'bout..." Dad placed his hand on my dick, "...how 'bout I try fuckin' you,
son?" he asked.

I nodded, "Y-yeah, Dad. W-what're you gonna do?"

"I'll go real slow," he said calmly. "I'm just gonna move in and out. In
and out."

I nodded.

"Real slow," he started pulling his dick out of my ass. Slowly. The feeling
was insane. I felt like my entire skeleton was going to fall to the floor
as Dad slowly retreated his cock from my ass. My breath shook and
shuddered. I remained as relaxed as I could, even though my body's instinct
was to grip onto my Dad's cock tightly.

Just before Dad's dick fell out of my hole, he started pushing it slowly
back in.

"Ahhh," I whined. My eyes pinched shut, as sweat began to trickle down my
cheeks, down my neck.

"Y'okay?" Dad asked again.

"Ahhh...y-yeah," I said, somewhat strained still. "K-keep goin'," I
insisted. My jaw dropped as I felt the tip of my dad's dick plunging into
my ass once again. Deeper. Deeper. A seemingly endless excursion.

The sharp pain that caused my body to recoil had gone away, and now it was
just the fiery burn of something new, something foreign probing deep inside
of me.

"Mmmmm," Dad groaned as he reached the furthest he wanted to push. Even
before I could get used to it, he started pulling away again.

"AH...AHH..." I chirped, like stepping into hot water. As he pulled away, I
felt my body being pulled with him. "Ahh...oh Gah....unnngh," I groaned and
cringed as my Dad pulled his dick away.

After moving away a few inches, he pressed his dick into me once again.

"URRRGH," I cried, throwing my head back, resting my hand on his
stomach. My signal for slow down, but my dad pressed on anyway, reaching
his furthest point once again, and then pulling away. I threaded my fingers
through his body hair, gripping on to him tightly.

The mixture of the agony of how thick my dad's cock was with the seering
pleasure it gave me was wild, alien, frightening and exciting all at once.

I looked down at my tightened stomach, watching my Dad getting a bit more
ambitious with his movements. My cock vibrated and pulsed, precum pooling
on my stomach.

"Unngh, Dad..." I whined, throwing my head back. My hole felt stretched,
sore, tired. I was using muscles that I realized that I never use. It was
too much. But I wanted to keep going.

As Dad leaned into his next pelvic thrust, he rested his body onto mine,
taking in my mouth with his.

"MMMMPH" I roared into his mouth. Dad pulled his dick away, and then pushed
even faster then before, raking his cock perfectly against my
prostate. "GUHHH!" I cried. "Ho...ho god...oh man...D-dad...I..." This
feeling was familiar. This inescapable urge to cum.

My dad leaned away from me, slowly pulling his dick completely out of my
ass. I groaned as I felt every inch escape from my hole, giving one firm
exhale as the head of his cock popped out of me like a cork. As it left me,
I flattened myself on the table with exasperated breaths.

"Y'okay," Dad asked.

"Oh, Dad," I said breathlessly. "That was..." I didn't know the words to
describe how it felt. All I knew was that I wanted him to do it again. I
was exhausted. I was a pile of laundry left unfolded on this table.

"Y'want me to keep fuckin' you?" Dad asked.

"Yes. Yes, please, Dad." Dad approached me again, playing with my hole with
his fingers a bit. It amazed me how used to his fingers I was at this
point. Now all I wanted was to try his cock again.

Dad rested his dick against my hole and pressed it into me, going slowly at
first like before.

"Ahhh, Dad," I whispered as he drove his dick into my hole, then pulled
away. He continued this pattern of moving slowly in and out, being careful
with me. "Mmmmm," I whined. "Y-you can...go a lil faster if you want, Dad,"
I offered.

"Y-yeah?" he sounded surprised.

"Yeah, Dad. I...mmph...I think I'm getting used to it." Dad pushed his dick
into me like before, slowly, guided. "Unnnngh," I groaned, moving my legs
apart a bit more. "Y-yeah, Dad..."

"Just lemme know if yer needin' me to stop," he said. I nodded in
return. With that he slightly picked up his pace, planting his hands on my
shoulders, to help ground himself. Dad slowly rocked back and forth, almost
like he was rocking me to sleep, taking his time, letting his cock get to
know my hole a bit more.

Every thrust was started to glide against my prostate, more and more
seamlessly. I started to relax, remembering to breath.

"How's it feel, Seb," Dad asked, shaking with labored breath.

"Guh...Good, Dad," I sighed. "F-faster, Dad. Y-you can go faster," I
whispered, breath heavy with lust. With that command Dad picked up his pace
even more, crunching his stomach, and using his body to feed my
hole. "Unnnngh, God!" I wailed as Dad started to fuck me faster, still
being careful not to hurt me. His movements were stiff and calculated.

"It's okay, Dad," I said.

"I...I don' wanna hurt ya," he commented.

"I'll....I'll tell you if it hurts. Promise," I said, looking deep into his
eyes.

Dad nodded, leaning into kiss me. As he did, he picked up his pace even
more, pulling me by the hips so that I was further off the table.

"ANNNGH!" I barked in surprise. "Oooooh, D-dah...ungh...." I sang. I tried
my best to keep pace with my dad's body moving with him, feeling his cock
slowly pumping in and out of my hole.

I was a sweating mess. Spit flew from my mouth as I kept taking sharp
breaths in and out as my dad slowly did his dance inside of me.

With a swooping push, Dad pressed against my prostate, causing me to see
stars. "ANNGH!" I yelled.

"Y-y'okay," he asked. I knew he had to be tired of asking that.

"Ahhh, y-yeeah, right there, right there," I squeezed the words out of my
mouth. My entire body felt tight like rubber, yet loose like jelly at the
same time. "K-keep going, Dad. Don't stop...Don't....unngh," I spread my
legs further letting Dad reach me even better.

"Faster, Dad. Faster," I said.

"Ooooohhh, boy," my dad groaned, picking up his speed. I felt my Dad's
balls swinging against the small of my back. Dad gripped my dick and
started stroking.

"Oh god, Dad. Oh god oh god," I whispered frantically. I wanted to cum so
badly. Dad's pace was starting to get faster, the table I was laying on
began to scratch across the floor of the garage. Sweat-soaked hair began to
swing against my eyes, as my dad began to take charge of his urge to plow
me.

My insides churned as my dad's penis began to continue burrowing inside of
me, my hole becoming a home, warmly embracing his cock, rather than trying
to shut him out.

"Ahh. I can...I can feel ya starting to relax, Seb." I nodded. It still
felt uncomfortable, but the way my father was handling me, I knew I wanted
it to last forever.

"UNnnnnnnngh!" I whined, my voice bouncing with each of my dad's
thrusts. His chest heaved and arms tightened as he ran his fingers across
my legs, groping and clinging to whatever skin of mine he could find. With
ravenous greed he twisted my nipples as he scowled and snarled at me. I
could tell though that he was holding back, and I knew that I couldn't take
much more.

"Annngh, D-dad, I...I don't know how much....m-more I can..."

"Wha...whadya want?" my dad asked.

"I wanna...ummmmphhh...g-aaawd," Dad pressed his cock slowly forward,
slowing his pace, but dipping his cock deeper into my hole.

"Tell me, boy," he slowly withdrew his cock, pushing it back in slowly once
more.

"Annnnnngh," I groaned. "Ffff...Dad, can...I say...that word?
That...unghhhh, F-word?" I asked.

"Yeah, son," he said pushing into me again. "Say it," he ordered.

"Fff...fuck me," I said quietly at first. Something began to sweep over
me. My realm of control, my idea of gravity, my concept of space and time
all seemed to blur together. What was once a clear image of my father, an
arch way of manly power, delicately pressing his cock further inside of me,
was now becoming an oil painting. Smudged, hazy, but vibrant.

"Fuck...fuck me," I whispered. I no longer felt like I was Sebastian, a boy
in the 7th grade, on the swim team, fan of comics and legos. I was becoming
animalistic in my voice and my movements. Something in the pit of my
stomach swelled and churned. A feeling in the back of my throat swirled
like smoke, like fire in the gullet of a dragon.

"Fuck me, Dad. Fuck...FUCK me!" I cried out in confidence as Dad pushed his
meat in and out again. My legs clamped around my dad's naked waist. My arms
swung at my father's chest, fingers raked through chest hair, pulling on
him as if they were weeds in a flower bed. I barked in furious ecstasy in
rhythm with my Dad's pelvic thrusts that grew quicker with my lustful
encouragement. My cock and balls felt heavy with cum. "FUCK ME, DAD," I
squealed, waves of pleasure filled my body, rattling against my joints and
bones. "FUCK ME!"

"Oooohhh, sheeeyit," my Dad sighed as he jerked my aching cock in his hand
rapidly, fucking me faster and harder. I crunched my stomach, hanging from
my father's neck, my legs like water reeds, flapping and waving against the
powerful force of my dad's dick. "M'gettin' close, Seb," my dad whispered
inches away from my face, locking eyes with me, whipping his wrist,
desperate to milk an orgasm out of me. "I'm...gonna fuggin..." Dad's
movements became less rhythmic and more erratic. At moments his dick was
inside my ass, and with a fevered twitch he'd yank his cock out of me, and
with another he'd be back in. He was a lightning bolt, crackling and
wreaking havoc inside of me.

"I'm g-go'....Sebastian, I'm CUMMINGGHHH!"

WHAM!

"YEEAHHHHHHH!" I roared, almost a battle cry as my father's dick slammed
all the way inside of me. The sound of my father's skin popping against
mine as he made his final thrust, rang in my ears. My eyes were like
gemstones, seeing colors, reflections, almost hallucinating. Cum came
oozing out of my dick at first, but thin jolts of it came flying forth,
painting first my chin, my neck and my chest, trickling down my small and
tight stomach like beads of rain.

My dad cried and whimpered like a puppy, his face running against my sweaty
hair, as his dick twitched and pulsed in my ass. Fire and lava. That's what
feeling his cum filling my ass felt like. It burned.

"Oh Dad," I whispered, "it's hot. It's hot in there," I barely managed to
say.

My legs shook and quivered against my dad. I leaned back against the table
exhausted, out of breath, completely worn out, sketches of where my cum had
landed began to fade and dry into my skin.

I watched my dad as he started to pull out of me. My face twisted and
contorted at the sensitivity of my insides after cumming.

"Oh OH OH," I chirped as Dad pulled himself away. His jaw and face made
similar faces as he withdrew his cock. Inch by inch he slid out of me, his
oily cock coming back into the real world, leaving my ass.

I tightened and recoiled, my ass trying to keep his cock in me, but the
tug-o-war that we played eventually ended, and Dad's cock slipped away, a
trickle of cum seeping from my hole.

"Mmmm, fuck, son," my dad mumbled, as he leaned over to my ass began
cleaning what he left behind, lapping up his own seed. My breath was
wild. I never wanted to move again. Just to lay here, in our own sexual
fog, would have been satisfying. My limbs were splayed about like a rag
doll.

Dad leaned over me, cum on his tongue, and planted a kiss on my lips,
giving me a taste of the stuff that had just been deposited inside of me.

After making out with me for a few more moments, he pulled away, our
softened dicks resting against one another.

"Dad," I finally whispered. "That was...really, really fun," I said with a
smile.

"No one's ever been able t'take my dick like that," my dad said.

"Well," I said somewhat sheepishly. "Does it ever stop...you know," I
searched for the right words. "Hurting so much?"

"I hurt you, Seb?" A look of concern fell upon his face.

"No! No, just at first it was really hard to do. Then it got easier, and
started feeling better. Still...I wanna get better at it," I admitted.

"Well, I definitely came quicker'n normal," he said. Dad ran his hand down
my messy chest and stomach. Sweat and cum mixed on me for a sort of noxious
smell.

Finally he said, "We're just gonna have to practice."

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

Chapter 10 to follow.

Please email hjk7359@hotmail.com for feedback, questions, or constructive
criticism.

Thank you for reading.