Date: Wed, 25 Sep 2013 11:31:25 -0700 (PDT) From: Gustav Rennick Subject: Scout Time Scouting Time My eldest son decided to join the Boy Scouts when he turned 11, and I heartedly encouraged him. Brandon was never the most confident of children so I hoped he would gain some self-esteem and confidence. Over the months I noticed Brandon changing as he was challenged to do more than he thought himself capable, and achieved it Then, one day a little twist that surprised me. Brandon asked if I would be one of the 'chaperones' for an upcoming camping trip. Now, I fully support the idea of Brandon, and the other boys, getting all the best out of the programme; I will buy any fundraising do-hickey Brandon brings home; I will donate money to help the less privileged kids do things with the others, but I never planned to be so involved as to sleep in the wilderness. Brandon, however, was persistent. Apparently another father had agreed but he fell and broke his leg, now they were one adult short. If no one came forward the trip had to be cancelled for some of the boys. Looking into my son's teary brown eyes, I gave in - reluctantly. With Brandon hanging onto me, I called the Troop Leader and pledged myself to accompany the boys. Scott Healy enthusiastically welcomed me aboard. I had met Scott when I originally signed Brandon up as a scout. He was a bit younger than I, about 30 I guessed; about my height, 5'10"; much fitter than I, though I am no slouch fitness-wise; blond to my brown; and much, much more enthusiastic about the scouting movement than I could ever be. "I am so glad you can join us, Brad, the boys are so looking forward to the trip and were devastated when Howard broke his leg. We need a certain adult/child ratio to run these outing. With you coming everyone can attend. Now, I know from Brandon you don't have a tent or supplies, so I will borrow Howard's tent, sleeping bag and air mattress?" "Air mattress?" I gasped. Scott laughed, "Yes, air mattress. Although there are cabins for cooking, eating and some recreational activities, we will be giving the boys a true wilderness experience. Sleeping in tents. You are okay with that, right?" Looking at Brandon, hunkered down beside me, intent on every word, I managed a hearty, "Oh, yes, we want the boys to experience it all, yes sirree!" "That's the spirit. I will email you with the details including when the bus will be picking us up from the church next Friday. See you then, bye," he hung up quickly, probably sensing my growing reluctance. The week passed very quickly and I could not come up with a convincing excuse to back out, so I steeled myself for the inevitable. But then on Thursday, Brandon came home from school looking crest-fallen. "Everybody is sick and can't come tomorrow," he pouted. It seems two of the schools in the catchment area had outbreaks of flu. I did not rejoice aloud as I gave him a hug, but I was leaping for joy inside. I called Scott wanting to get official conformation I was free, "Scott, Brad Garamond here. I just heard the bad news about the trip." Scott, as usual, was upbeat, "Yeah, I was just about to call you. We are going to have to scale back a bit but there are enough boys to make it worthwhile." "Say what?" My reprieve? What about my reprieve? "Oh, while this flu bug has knocked out most of the boys and the other two adults are too sick, you and I will be able to manage the six boys who are still able and raring to go. Scouts never give up. We will have fun! Got to change the bus arrangements. See you tomorrow." Brandon was of course delighted and full of energy all night and the next morning, as he got ready for school. Me? Not so much. I kept wondering how Howard managed to break his leg. What hazards existed for an accountant's leg, I wondered. Friday at 5, I dutifully showed up at the church with Brandon bouncing beside me. Scott was already there with a small ten-passenger van. Okay, a little bit of luck. I could legally drive this smaller vehicle unlike the fifteen-passenger bus originally planned. This meant I didn't have to entertain the six squirmy pre-teens who joined us at 5:45. I was introduced to the kids, although I wasn't sure who was who right away. Our campers were: Kim, Jamie, Colin, Arnold, Matt and Brandon. Like Scott, all were in official Scout uniform - shirts, shorts, neckerchiefs, long socks and footwear. Me - shorts, t-shirt and footwear. All the boys were on the smaller side and, from the piercing nature of their voices, my guess was none had entered puberty yet. I couldn't believe the amount of noise six kids could make, and make for so long. I had a headache by the time we reached the church camp we were using. I looked longingly at the cabins while Scott and the boys put up the tents. I felt very inadequate as I watched the uniformed troop members efficiently put up the two tents. "Brad, you will bunk with Kim, Jamie and Colin and I will have the other three, okay?" I nodded with as much enthusiasm as I could muster and stowed my gear in the assigned tent. Brandon, Matt and Kim showed off their 'roughing it' skills by building a fire in the fire pit. The old rubbing two sticks together took some time so we were famished by the time the fire was sufficient to cook supper. Naturally, the boys opted for hot dogs and the weenie roasting began. After clean up, story time. Fortunately, Scott had an ample supply of appropriate tales with which to amuse the troops, and I wasn't called upon to contribute. I didn't think tales of double entry bookkeeping and tax auditing, although scary, would go over so well. At ten o'clock we climbed into our respective tents. Each of the boys got ready for bed in underwear and t-shirts, trying their utmost to not bare too much skin to their fellows. Without hesitating I stripped down to my briefs, normally I sleep nude, without giving it a second thought. The boys giggled at the sight of me just in my skivvies. 'Going to be a long weekend,' I thought. Eventually my little trio talked themselves out and fell asleep and I followed suit. I was awakened before 3 a.m. by a gentle tapping above my head. At first I could not place the sound but a rousing crack of thunder let me know it was rain. The thunder wakened my tent mates, Colin giving a small shriek of fright. The other two started to make fun of Colin but I ended it by telling a little white lie, "Thunder sometimes scares me, too. Especially when it wakes me up like that." I got a weak smile out of Colin which broadened when I suggested we zip all three sleeping bags together so the boys could make me feel safer and help me go back to sleep. This was quickly done and we snuggled in and fell to sleep. I slept fitfully, listening to the steady rain, aware it was increasing in intensity as morning dawned. I heard Scott quietly calling my name about 5:30. I climbed into clothes and joined him outside. "I think we should use the cook cabin until the rain stops, okay?" "Sounds good to me. Do we need to let the parents know?" "I don't think that necessary. At least not yet. It will let up eventually. Now, what's for breakfast?" His cheerful optimism was uplifting but if he was going to be cheerful this early all weekend I decided to kill him. We roused the boys, shepherded them through their ablutions, and focused them on breakfast. Making pancakes was an interesting and messy task but the little ones thoroughly enjoyed themselves and, truth be told, the results tasted not too bad. That rainy Saturday was spent in the large cabin playing games, tying knots to chair legs, singing songs, and answering a million questions posed by six eager minds. Toward lunchtime I looked out and realized the tents were swamped. We rushed out to save our gear and abandoned the tents to their soggy fate. Most of the tent contents were damp, some soaked, so we strung out the ropes between the wooden posts of the cook cabin and hung up clothes, sleeping bags, and air mattresses to dry. Fortunately the cabin had an ample supply of cut dry firewood. As supper approached, Scott and I made calls to families to let them know all was well and their little campers were dealing with the tempest in good spirits. Suppertime came and went and we gathered around the huge fireplace for warmth, songs and story telling. After a couple of hours even Scott's supply of stories was faltering. We started to set up for bed. That's when it happened. Young Arnold looked squarely at Scott and asked, "Is it true we can ask anything? Anything at all?" "Of course, Arnold. What's on your mind?" Arnold looked at his fellows, hesitated, looked at me, the outsider, and finally stammered, "Well, ? I was looking through my brother's? my older brother's ? school books the other day and one was? well, it was?" Scott and I glanced at each other with puzzled expressions. "Go on, it's okay," Scott encouraged. Arnold inhaled deeply before continuing, "Well, this one book was about? you know, about?" Matt jumped in, "It was about sex. Sex stuff. And we have some questions. There, I said it." Arnold breathed a sigh of relief at not having to say it himself. Scott's turn to inhale deeply, "Yes, you did say it, Matt. So what kind of questions did you have? I may be able to answer them, I may not." He gave me a sidewise glance which I interpreted as 'Help!' "Great! Okay, when my little sister was born mom used to breast-feed her. Dad explained about women's breast having mommyary glands or something?" "Mammary glands," I interjected, "All mammal females have them." "Yeah, that's it. Dad said that but what he couldn't answer was 'Why do guys have nipples?' I mean what use are nipples on men. They don't produce milk or nothin', right" Scott stifled a laugh, "You are quite correct, Matt, nipples on guys do not produce milk. Why guys have nipples is something I have wondered about too. It has something to do with the way humans evolved. Any ideas, Brad?" I wasn't expecting to be asked any questions, "Sorry, Matt, I've never heard why either." Matt was persistent, "Okay, women's nipples are on their tits? I mean breasts? and men play with them when they are having? you know? sex. What about men?" "You mean do men's nipples get played with during sex?" Matt and a couple of others nodded. "Well, that depends on the man, really. For some men their nipples are sensitive and the man likes having them played with other men not so much." Jamie leapt in, "So, what about you? Are your nipples sensitive, Scott?" The scout leader blushed a very deep red and paused before answering, "Well, as a matter of fact, yes, I have sensitive nipples." There was a general chorus of "Show us! Show us!" "Guys, we have to remember decorum here?" Scott started. Jamie interrupted, "Remember the Scout pledge you taught us, Scott?" He recited purposefully, "On my honour I promise that I will do my duty to God and Queen. To help other people at all times, and carry out the spirit of Scout Law', he recited and then repeated with emphasis, "'To Help other people at all times'. Well, showing us your nipples will be helping us learn. Isn't that what you're supposed to do?" Scott looked at me for support but I decided to play devil's advocate, "Hey, man, you started it. You said they could ask. One step from ask to show." He shook his head slowly and raised his t-shirt looping it back around his neck, his wedding ring flashing in the firelight. His well-proportioned, muscular chest was on display for our young, eager audience. The boys drew closer and stared. "I don't see nothing special," moped Brandon. Scott inhaled deeply, expanded his chest and then said, "They have to be played with before you can tell. You have to touch them." I knew that statement put him in deep trouble right there and then. Six curious hands immediately reached out and contacted his pecs. They poked and prodded nipples and surrounding areas. I cringed as I watched, "Guys, not like that. You have to be gentle if you're going to play with someone's nipples." And, as soon as I said it I knew I too had stepped in it. Brandon grabbed my wrist and pulled me forward, "Show us, Dad, show us how." My hand made contact with Scott's rock hard pectoral muscle and the nipple on it. I muttered to Scott, "Sorry." He muttered in return, "My fault. I opened this can of worms." Jamie and Colin urged me on, "Show us how you play with someone's nipples, Mr G." I blushed at this, my very first time ever touching another guy in a sexual manner, and again muttered, "Sorry." Scott nodded acknowledgement. "Okay, boys, when you are playing with a woman's, or a man's, nipples you want to be gentle. You caress them like this," I suited actions to words gently running my palm over Scott's incredibly firm pec, "Or like this." This time I used my fingers to stroke around the nipple. As I fondled this man breast I mentally compared it to my wife's; his were solid, hers were soft and more pliable; his were dusted with light blond hairs, hers, obviously, were not. Scott's nipple hardened under my touch and became a solid little nub like a pencil eraser. Three keen hands mimicked my actions on Scott's other breast and marvelled at how the nipple hardened and how the caressing was producing soft moans from their scout leader. I stepped back so the other three boys could practice. From my vantage point I could see another response Scott was having - his shorts were obviously tented - and I hoped the boys didn't catch that. Scott's blush had deepened. As I stood, now a distanced observer, I was shocked when I felt a hand snake up my shirt toward my nipples. I looked down and Brandon had introduced his arm under my shirt, "How about you, Dad? You got sensitive nipples, too?" "Not to the same degree Scott has." "Show us, show us," came the chorused reply. "Yeah, Dad," Brandon urged me, "Let's see. Let's see how they're different." 'This cannot be happening,' I thought to myself, even as I felt my t-shirt being pulled up. Brandon and Kim joined forces and tugged my shirt over my head and off. "Brandon?" But Brandon and his accomplice were already caressing my pecs and nipples, "How come yours aren't as hard as Scott's?" "And how come you have more hair on your chest?" There was now a shift from Scott to me as all the boys played with the ample hair on my chest and abdomen comparing that to the much lighter hair on the scout leader. "Different men have different amounts of hair on their chest. Some have lots. Some have none. It just depends on their genetics," Scott said. "Now, boys, I think it's time to get ready for bed." If he hoped to divert their attention he failed, miserably. I could now feel small hands running up and down my legs. Scott was pushed closer to me so his legs could be felt at the same time. "Is that why Mr G. has lots of hair but you don't have none?" Scott nodded. One boy's hand ran up the side of my leg but didn't stop at my shorts. His cool flesh ran up my flank to my waistband. Before I could say anything, Colin announced to his friends, "The hair goes all the way up." On the other side another hand made the same discovery. Followed moments later by Matt, his hand in Scott's short, declaring, "No hair on Scott." I don't know why I was surprised to hear, "Let's see. Let's see." Followed by the sensation of my shorts being tugged down my legs. I caught sight of the same action happening to Scott. We stood there now - me in my skin-tight white cotton briefs and Scott in a white jock strap. The hands were exploring all the exposed areas of our bodies comparing Scott's rock hard muscles to my firm but not as developed ones; my hairy limbs and his smooth ones; my appendectomy scar to the absence of one on Scott; my beginning love handles to Scott's slender flanks. Scott's bare ass came under close scrutiny. The protests of us adults were drowned out by the enthusiastic clambering of the pre-teens around us. I felt a strange sensation almost as if this wasn't really happening to me. I mean I felt the hands all over my body, touching, prodding, nudging, and I confess it felt good and it was stimulating. I could not believe it was stimulating. I mean these were the hands of males, mere boys, and they were causing me to react. As a straight man, a married, straight man, I should not be feeling stimulated and I most certainly not be getting hard. These adolescent hands should not be giving me a hard on! Our inquisitors being very curious, and very observant, could not help but fix their attention on our erect penises behind their cotton barriers. I tried more vigorously to end this but my efforts were doomed. I looked down in time to see Brandon take firm hold of my cock. "Nice woodie, Dad," he broadcast. He stroked it through the cotton. My copious pre-cum created a little puddle on the fabric. "Interesting?" "Arnold, don't!" Scott cried. I turned to see Scott lose his jock strap. The freed cock bounced up to hit Arnold in the face. "Ewww!" exclaimed Arnold, wiping pre-cum off his face. The appearance of a hard, adult cock caught everyone's attention and there were actual 'oh's' and 'ah's'. Those 'oh's' and 'ah's' were repeated when my son yanked my briefs off me to expose me in all my glory to the world. Small hands ran up and down my cock, and Scott's. Scott and I moaned in unison with the pleasurable sensations. We were pushed face-to-face so the boys could compare cock size. I was slightly longer. I could feel the heat from Scott's cock as the boys played with their new toys. Naturally, those exploring hands moved on to our balls. Scott and I were pushed even closer to settle an argument about whose were bigger - Scott won this one. Suddenly, Brandon stood, placed a firm hand on our backs and said to Scott and me, "Kiss. C'mon kiss. Show us how to kiss." We both protested that wasn't going to happen; we were not going to kiss. The boys had other ideas. Pressure to our backs and to the backs of our heads forced our faces together. Scott and I gave each other a quick peck on the lips. But that did not satisfy the audience. "Not like that." "That's a grandma kiss." "Give us a real one." "Kiss like you mean it!" "We want to see tongue," announced Brandon, "Kiss him like you kiss mom, Dad." My eleven-year-old son was really getting into this whole scene. 'You know, tongue and stuff." We made eye contact; I could see my embarrassment reflected in Scott's eyes. He gave the slightest nod of agreement, or perhaps surrender. I took a deep breath and pressed my lips onto Scott's. He pressed back. I pushed my tongue into his open mouth; his tongue pressed back. I tilted my head he tilted the other way and we kissed with some passion. The boys cheered. For the first time in my life, I French kissed another guy, another straight guy, and it wasn't unpleasant. Then the boys shoved us together so our hard cocks squashed together. With that manoeuvre came a new request, voiced by Arnold, "Now, we read about blow jobs? you know, sucking? we want to see that now." The others echoed his demand. Scott and I turned as one and said, "No!" "Not going to happen!" But the boys knew they were in total control of the situation, so they merely laughed, grabbed at our feet and legs and pulled us off balance. They pulled our shorts and underwear off of our ankles leaving us stark naked. They proceeded to manoeuvre us down to the floor and into position for a sixty-nine. Scott and I lay head to foot about a foot apart on the cabin floor. I attempted to raise myself up onto my elbow, but Brandon gently pulled my elbow away and simultaneously gave the back of my head a shove forward. My face made contact with Scott's hard cock. I stared at it in horror. At the same time I was aware of Scott's warm breath on my equally rigid cock. Brandon pinched my nose closed so I forced to open my mouth, giving my son, and at least one other boy, an opportunity to push me onto that cock before me. "Now suck cock, Dad." Scott made similar contact with my cock. Having cock in my mouth was not an unpleasant sensation, not like I imagined. I tentatively brushed my tongue along the cock head savouring the taste. I was rewarded with a leak of pre-cum. A pleasant sweet-salty taste. I repeated my actions; the same reward. I moved my head forward to engulf more of Scott's cock. I felt similar sensations on my own cock. "There, you see, I told you they would both get into it, Brandon," said Arnold, "Look at your old man work that cock. And both of them are hard as rocks. That means they are enjoying themselves. That's what the book said that means." As I moved further down on the cock in my mouth, it dawned on me this whole thing was not as spontaneous as it originally seemed. And my son had conspired to get me to do sexual things with his scout leader. Even knowing that I couldn't get mad at him or the other boys. The reality was I was actually enjoying this. I don't know why I was enjoying this but I was. I, a happily married, straight man was enjoying being made to do sexual things with another man! Without direction from the boys, I was sucking Scott's cock and he was sucking mine. We were both demonstrating more enthusiasm than straight men should. I wondered how far we would be taken on this little adventure About five minutes later, I had my answer when Kim ventured, "Okay, now how about this 'rimming' thing. Don't let them cum before they've done the other stuff. Get them to rim each other." Brandon replied, "Good idea," and he lifted Scott's upper leg and gently guided me forward so I was closer to Scott's asshole. "Take a good look, Dad, and lick his hole." I took a long look at Scott's hole and a good whiff. It neither looked nor smelled as bad as I thought. In fact, it seemed to be rather enticing. I tentatively flicked at the rosette and was rewarded with a twitch and a moan from Scott. I flicked again. And again. I liked it. So I dove in deeper. When Scott copied my behaviour at my asshole I also moaned and groaned in pleasure. Wow, what a wild sensation! Pity my wife had never touched my hole, it would have brought a new dimension to our lovemaking. Not to worry, Scott was adding something to my life right now. Instinctively, I curled my tongue tightly and pushed it ever deeper into the delectable hole before me. "Gee, Dad, you're really getting into this, aren't you?" asked Brandon. He had his face down next to mine to watch me rim his scout leader. I turned enough to look him in the eye, pulled my tongue from Scott's ass long enough to say, "Damn fucking right I am!" Brandon gasped. He had never heard me swear before. Then he laughed and whispered in my ear, "I am so fucking glad because there is so much I want to fucking learn about sex. And you're goin' fuckin' teach me what I want to learn, aren't you, Dad?" He broke into a broad smile as he used profanity for the first time in front of me. Again I turned to look at him, "Fuckin' right I am, son, anything you want to fucking learn. Now let's see what you've learned so far, kiss me, son." He leaned forward and noticed Scott's ass juices smeared on my lips and chin, "Eww, Dad." I raised one hand, grabbed the back of his head, saying as I moved my face closer to his, "Enjoy it, son. Sometimes sex is dirty. Fuckin' kiss me!" Gamely, he moved forward and planted his lips on mine. His tongue pushed into my mouth and wrestled with mine until he broke out laughing. "What's so funny?" asked Kim. "I just kissed my dad and tasted Scott's ass, and I fuckin' love it. I'm goin' to have sex with my dad as much as I want. I love it." "Lucky you, Brand, I wish I could fuck around with my dad." "Well, until you get your dad you can fuck around with my dad, too. Can't he, Dad?" I looked around the room at the boys; they were all stripped to their underwear and sported little tents, "You guys want to fuck around with me?" A chorus of 'Yes' responded. "Me too?" interjected Scott. A chorus of 'yeses' answered him. I laughed, "So, since you guys went to the trouble of seducing us and getting us to have sex, your prize is you get to have sex with us." There was a hearty cheer. "Starting now!" I turned to Brandon dragged off his briefs and engulfed his little three inch cock all the way. "Fuck, Dad, suck me, Dad," Brandon gasped. Behind me I heard Matt say, "Damn, Scott, that feels good." I knew Scott was sucking young cock with me. The boys were very eager, very turned on, and very young. As result, Brandon and Matt had dry orgasms very quickly. Instantly their cocks were replaced, Arnold in my mouth and Kim in Scott's, then Jamie and Colin. And then Matt rammed into my mouth and Brandon thrust into Scott; and the boys rotated again and then again. Being eleven their recovery rate was very short and they took advantage of the two of us four times each and probably would had demanded more blowjobs had Brandon not asked me something. "So, Dad, you ever been fucked?" I had Kim's two-and-half inch cock in my mouth and I choked on it, knowing where this was going, "Uh? no, son, I have never been fucked." I envisioned them demanding Scott screw me with his seven inches of adult cock. But that wasn't what Brandon had in mind, "Good, 'cause I get to fuck a virgin ass." Immediately, he was behind me lining up his cock with my virgin hole. "Brandon, now wait just a minute?" "Now, Dad, I gotta try?" His first two stabs missed. His third forced its way into my hole. It didn't hurt as much as I feared but it did hurt. "Great idea, Brand," Matt cheered and he aligned his cock with Scott's ass. He managed to find his goal with the first thrust. Scott grunted in discomfort. "You a virgin, too, Scott?" He asked politely but too late as he was already in. "I was 'til you crammed that thing in me, Matt. I was." "You want me to stop?" "Fuck no. Keep pumping, boy. Fuck me good." All the while Brandon rammed his three inches of hard cock up my ass. After the pain of his initial thrust, I was actually enjoying the sensation of cock in my ass. Brandon started with short sharp stabs up my rectum but then settled down to a longer stroke and a slower pace. I was being fucked for the first time and it was by my pre-teen son. I never thought of being fucked before nor or engaging in incest before but now? "Fuck me harder, son. Ram your cock up your old man! Make me feel it!" I was surprised to hear myself encouraging Brandon as I was. "I'm fucking. I'm fucking my dad. And I fucking love it!" Brandon proclaimed. "Don't you love fucking, Matt?" "I fucking love fucking, Brand! I wish we had done this sooner." "Hey, don't hog those holes, we want to get some too," Jamie said, including the others. The others all nodded vigorously. "Oh, alright," Matt said reluctantly, and pulled out of Scott's ass quickly, earning another grunt of discomfort from the scout leader. Jamie immediately impaled Scott. Yet another grunt from Scott. "Brandon, didn't your mother and I teach you to share your toys?" I asked rhetorically. Brandon gave me two quick, hard jabs. "Yes, father, sharing is a good thing," he said mockingly. He pulled out, causing me to grunt in turn, and declared, "One ass open for fucking. Who's next?" The empty feeling in my ass didn't last long as Colin took position, rubbed his cock head along my crack a couple of times before shoving full force. Another grunt. What the boys lacked in length and girth they made up for with enthusiasm and drive. And, just as with the blowjobs, once they had their dry orgasms, they recovered hard ons very quickly. All six boys pummelled Scott and me in various ways and numerous positions for well over two and a half hours. Finally the scouts were all showing signs of being worn out, Brandon, finished his fifth go at my ass, pulled out and wasn't immediately replaced. He lay behind and beside me, I was on my side by then, and called, "Next?" There were no takers and I breathed a sigh of relief, not because I was tired of sex with the boys but because I was plain tired. Scott showed signs he was feeling the same after Arnold pulled out of him. Being a responsible adult, I suggested it was time for bed. At that same moment, something small slipped into my sore asshole. Brandon was fingering me. First one finger and then a second. I looked at him and realized it was just him fooling around and not really a sex thing. At first. He watched in fascination as his two fingers slide in and out of my hole. His two fingers were not much larger than the boys' cocks that had pounded me for so long. But then, he slipped a third finger in and his thrusts were harder. Then he squeezed a fourth finger in and spread them apart. It was a tad uncomfortable back there. "Hey guys, look at this," he called, and an audience gathered. "Stick your thumb in, too," suggested Kim. " I think this is called 'fisting'. It's on our list." "Enough, Brandon. No more. Pull out." I demanded. Too late. With his next push forward his thumb squeezed in. My hole stretched uncomfortably to accommodate his entire hand. "Christ Almighty, Brandon." I declared at the pain. "Way to go, Brand." "Wow, your whole hand." "Fuck, Brand, the whole thing." "Gee, fisting." The boys were fascinated by the spectacle. Scott jumped in, "Brandon, if you're going to do that you need to make a fist with your thumb inside so your fingernails don't tear anything." 'Thanks, Scott, you couldn't have told him to not do it at all?' I thought. Brandon obediently made a fist, I could actually feel that action, and thrust even deeper up my ass. He reached a second sphincter I didn't know I had and meeting resistance pushed harder. At his second shove he popped through. Another rush of burning sensation for me. "Wow, guys, it gets tight inside here," Brandon announced in a tone as if he was describing a new level of a video game and not the action of fisting his father. "Hey, I wanna try," pronounced Matt. 'Oh, fuck, ' I thought but Matt moved behind Scott. Scott sounded a little more defensive of his ass than he had mine, 'Matt, be very careful. Not your whole fist! One finger at a time like Brandon did." Unfortunately for Scott, Matt moved quickly and apparently forced his whole fist in. Scott gave a scream of pain. "Oh, God, sorry, Scott." Matt cried contritely. "No, don't pull out!" Scott yelled, "Leave it in now that it's there. Just hold still until I tell you." The pain was evident in Scott's voice and all the boys were shocked. "Dad, did I hurt you like that?" "No, son, one finger at a time is the way to go. You did the right thing." I soothed, "but, guys, important lesson about sex is you never want to do something too quickly because you might hurt your partner like that." The boys nodded. "I'm so sorry, Scott, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm really, really sorry." Matt started to cry. Scott, who was face down when Matt shoved into him, managed to twist around to face Matt. He did this while Matt's hand remained inside him. I could tell Scott suffered by doing this manoeuvre. He managed to raise himself enough to hug Matt, "Matt, Matt, don't cry, don't cry, Matty. I know you didn't mean to hurt me. I know that, okay?" Matt cried into Scott's chest. In a few minutes, Matt's crying slowed. "That's my boy. Now, you ready to fist me? I want you to do it. Just go slow, okay, buddy?" Matt raised his head, his eye red from crying, and gave Scott a half smile. At the same time, Matt pushed his arm forward deeper into the scout leader. Scott moaned, "Fuck that feels good, buddy. Nice and slow like that, buddy." Matt and Brandon continued fisting us slowly, getting deeper with each thrust. When Brandon reached his elbow, I stopped him from going any further. I did not stop him from fisting me. Once I got used to the sensation of something that big up my ass I was actually enjoying it. Thank god he was not any older and bigger. Ten minutes of my son fist fucking me, Brandon slowly pulled out. Colin asked, "Can I do that, Mr G? Can I, please?" Who was I to stop a kid from enjoying himself, so I told him to go ahead but to go real slow and start with one finger at a time. He gently entered my ass and soon was giving me half way to his elbow. Arnold had replaced Matt in Scott's ass. Scott was moaning up a storm; apparently being filled with that much flesh was a great pleasure for Scott. Naturally, all six boys took turns on each of us. Twice. Eventually, we were able to convince the boys to go to sleep. Before they wandered off into their sleeping bags, I asked Brandon what list Kim had referred to. He sheepishly pulled a piece of paper from his backpack. He gave me a traditional father/son kiss and went to bed. Scott and I sat, gingerly, at the far end of the room discussing what had happened. And what might happen in the future. Scott observed, "Can't call myself straight any more; meet the newest bisexual." I shook his proffered hand and replied, "Meet another new bisexual and new incest father." "This is going to complicate my life. I have to figure out how to not let this spread through the rest of the troop. Having six boys use me as a sex object is more than enough." "So you plan to let them continue using you?" He paused, "Yes, I ? I confess that sometime during the fucking I decided I was enjoying it too much to stop them tonight or in the future. ? How about you?" I paused in turn, exhaled heavily, "I think it was as soon as Brandon starting to fuck me? I mean, as soon as I realized my son's cock was in my ass and it felt so good, I wanted it again. ? I never considered my son sexually before. Incest had never crossed my mind and now?" "Lucky you. I always wanted a son. Now, wanting a son has a different meaning." "Think you will have a son?" "Unfortunately not, my wife had her tubes tied after our last daughter. It was a complicated pregnancy." "Sorry to hear that. About the pregnancy, and sorry about not having a son of your own." "Its one of the reasons I volunteer to lead the scouts. As close to sons as I can get. Never thought of any of the boys sexually until tonight but now?" "As long as we stick to these six and not let word spread. Especially to our wives. We should be okay." "True. So we are agreed. We will not include any other boys and we will keep up appearances as straight men." "Agreed. Now, I wonder what is on this list the boys drew up." I smoothed out the wrinkled sheet of paper. Holding it so Scott could see it too, we read through the list. "Oh, my god! You and I are going to be very busy, my friend." I chuckled and pointed at a couple of the items, "Personally, I am going to have to do some research. What the hell is that?" "Or this?" It was very late when we made it to bed. We were physically and mentally exhausted when the boys got us in the morning. The rain had finally ended so we are able to get in some canoeing before we had to head for home. The trip was uneventful other than Scott and I took turns driving. When not driving we were sucking cock. We also made very clear to the boys the necessity of keeping everything a secret. They agreed because they were anxious to keep learning about sex and didn't want to lose their own sex educators. At home Brandon and I managed to keep our hands off each other for two weeks. Then Brandon told me there was a 'special' scout meeting at Scott's home on Saturday. Even though I understood what he meant I called Scott to confirm. His wife was away for the weekend and the house was ours. All six boys were anxious for the 'special' meeting. Saturday, Brandon and I got to Scott's house. The door was opened by Kim who ushered us into the living room. Scott was naked surrounded by naked scouts. Feedback is always welcome. I planned this as a one-of story but if I receive story ideas from those wanting it continued I will consider expanding it. Write to me at gustavrennick at yahoo dot com. Remember, if you enjoy the stories on Nifty; consider donating to keep Nifty alive. Any amount helps.