Here's part 8 of the story. As always, this is purely fictional. No real boys were hurt while writing this, please do not hurt any while reading or afterwards. Thanks!
also like to thank the people who took their time to write to me. You
know who you are :-)
Although I've got the end of the story pretty much set in stone, I am always open to suggestions. If there's a situation you'd like me to write about, I'm only an email away. email@example.com is how you reach me. Oh, please don’t worry that I'm about to wrap up this tale about Andy and I! There's still a lot more to come.
Also, if you can spare a little coin, nifty.org does need your support. Please donate whatever little you can here: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. If it wasn’t for people donating, I wouldn’t have had a platform to publish my stories on.
The heat is building, the water about to boil, but the boys are still young and lithe.
- or how I became what I am today.
Andy, the voyeur.
As the boys left my bedroom I grabbed a bottle of lube from my bedside table. Yeah, you didn’t think I only have one? Like a true boys’ scout or a soldier, I prepare myself for any situation. Following the boys, I entered the bathroom. They were standing there, giggling a bit. I decided to go for Andy first, sat him up on the counter in front of me.
The counter with the sink was one of my own designs. I didn’t make it myself, but I did specify my needs to the carpenter who made it for me. It was 2 meters wide, with the sink sitting on the left hand side as you stood in front of it. That left 150 cm of table top that was 60cm deep (Approximately 59”x23”). Michelle had made a changing pad for Andy to lay on. It was basically just an oversized changing pad for babies.
It was just a small foam mattress with foam risers on the longest sides and then covered in easily cleaned vinyl fabric. I had a towel on it so Andy’s skin wouldn’t stick to the vinyl. The pad was 100cm by 50cm and Michelle had made it for me when Andy had turned five and showed no interest in staying dry at night. It still worked quite well, as Andy could lay there with no risk of falling onto the floor by accident. Above the counter, I had installed two shelves which held a stack of diapers, along with other toiletries.
Andy knew what was about to happen of course, already unzipping his onesie pajamas. He pulled his arms out of the sleeves and pushed the onesie down to his butt. Then he lay back on the pad and used his thigh muscles to push his butt off the pad. I pulled the onesie jammies down to his ankles and he lifted his legs into the air as I removed the jammies completely. He parked his butt back on the pad and parted his legs as much as the pad would allow him.
All of this happened in a very short time without either of us having to communicate. I ripped open the taps holding the diaper snug to his tummy. The front of the diaper fell outwards on its own. That’s how full it was. I rolled the diaper up around itself as Andy lifted his butt again. His skin in the diaper area was glistening in the bright light from the lamp fixture over the sink. It was moist. Pee, of course. I got a washcloth and wrung it up using temperate water.
I lovingly washed my son down, removing all traces of pee from his body. When I washed his anus, I thought back to the night before. Remembered why I had brought the lube into the bathroom. The bottle was sitting just there, between the pad and the sink. Such a small distance away. I only had to stretch out my arm and I’d be able to grab it. Some say that from thought to action, there can be a long way. There wasn’t, not at that time. Not really.
Andy thinking he was done, began to sit up, and looked bewildered as I gently pushed him back down. He did lie down and stayed there as I grabbed the lube. He hadn’t seen the lube before. Didn’t know what it meant. He lay there watching my actions as I opened the cap and got some lube on my fingers. He smiled as I began to rub his dicky and balls with the lube.
“Yay, dicky games!” he exclaimed.
I smiled down at him as I fondled his little package, the lube really making things slippery. His little dicky slipped from my fingers a few times, until I finally was able to hold onto it. It grew, fairly quickly, into the little stiffy I had gotten so familiar with during our little sex games. Andy didn’t say anything as I used a finger from my other hand to follow the way down his perineum to his little hole. He had gotten comfortable with the feelings emitting from that area when caressed by my tongue.
He seemed to be really getting into what I was doing when all of a sudden he spoke.
I stopped everything I was doing.
“You can’t do that to my bum.”
My finger had just breached the rim to his little anus. It had just poked through, not much further than my tongue would have had on my earlier expeditions of exploration in the valley made up by Andy’s bum cheeks. One time I even had him lying on his stomach while I spread his little cheeks and lapped at his bum.
“Please, just once?” I asked my son.
“No I don’t like it!”
“I did it to John. And he likes it.”
Andy turned his head and looked at John. John’s cheeks were a little red, either from embarrassment or excitement, I couldn’t tell which. He looked into Andy’s eyes and nodded his head.
“I like it.”
Andy looked at him a little longer then turned his head to look at me.
“Well, if John likes it, you can play with his bum then.”
“You won’t mind?”
“No. Just don’t play with my bum. Not like that. Do that with John.”
I looked into my son’s eyes. Trying to see if he really meant it.
“Yep, do that with John, not me,” he said again.
I looked down at John. He smiled at me, and nodded, seemingly well pleased with the idea.
I took my time to give Andy his little kiddy cum. I stroked his little dicky with my left hand and just fondled his little balls with my right. Sometimes letting my fingers glide down and over his little bum hole. But not inside, I never tried to do that again. Not with Andy.
When Andy was satisfied I once again used the washcloth on him, this time wiping off lube, not pee. I sat him down the floor on his two feet and he turned to watch as I picked up John. I placed him on the pad, where only moments before my son had writhed in his little kiddy orgasm. John let me undress him, not lifting a finger to help me. Like he was just a little baby unable to do anything but sit or lay. I didn’t mind that at all.
I got his top off by taking hold of the seam at his hips. Pulling it upwards, it turned inside out, until first his head popped out and finally his hands emerged from the end of the long sleeves. I pushed on his chest until he let himself fall back. Not gently, but just relaxed himself and let gravity do the rest. If not for the foam in the pad, he would have hurt the back of his head. I grabbed hold of his ankles with one hand lifting his legs and bum off the pad.
Then worked the pajamas bottoms over his diapered butt and off his legs. He didn’t spread his legs like Andy had done. He left them where they had fallen to the pad. I looked at his face. He had put one of his thumbs into his mouth and was sucking at it like a baby. It was really sweet. I snapped open his diaper, pushed at his legs by the ankles so he had to bend his knees. Folded over like the boy was, it was a simple task to remove his diaper.
I put it next to Andy’s diaper. I’d dispose of them later. Right then, I had more important issues at hand. John’s dicky had already sprung into a chubby erection. I let his feet down on the pad, but put them close to his butt. With the soles on the pad. Spreading his knees apart gave me access to his bum hole, his little joystick and balls. Everything that really mattered at the time. I decided to forego the washcloth, I hadn’t rinsed it after wiping the lube off Andy.
I bent over, licking John’s little dick from the balls all the way to the flared tip of his little head.
“No fair! You didn’t do that to me,” Andy cried out.
“Don’t worry, little man. I’ll make it up to you,” I comforted him.
“You better,” I heard him say as I sucked in John’s relatively large balls.
They were certainly bigger than Andy’s. They were a little out of proportion to John’s dick, but I could still get both balls in my mouth at once with room to spare. I toyed with them with my tongue. John was still sucking on his thumb, but more eagerly now. I could see him sucking in his cheeks as he made a vacuum in his mouth. Then his cheeks would return to normal, only to be sucked in again. I would have loved to have my dick in his mouth instead of his thumb.
I released his balls from the captivity of my mouth and almost hungrily attacked his dicky. Mimicking what I had just seen John do, I started sucking on his dicky, but let my tongue run laps around his dickhead.
“Stick your finger in his bum!”
Seemingly Andy wasn’t pleased with the show we were giving him. I could feel John moving for the first time after I had sat him on the pad. He was propping himself up. I looked up and saw his face.
“Yes, do it like last night,” he agreed with Andy’s proposal.
I found the bottle of lube without letting go of John’s dicky with my mouth. A hefty dollop of lube was squirted directly onto John’s bum hole. He had let his upper body back on the pad after he told me what to do. I found the entry to his hole, after only searching for a second or two. I had to rely on my sense of touch as I didn’t want to take my mouth off the tasty dicky in my mouth. I pushed my finger into the first joint a little more forcibly than I had planned.
John flinched his legs, if only a little. But enough for me to notice. He didn’t yell out, so I probably only startled him. I sucked more vigorously on his dick and a moment later I pushed my finger into the second joint. This time John moaned.
“Wow!” Andy said, “You got your finger all the way in his butt.”
“Uh huh,” I tried humming to him, still unwilling to let go of John’s dicky.
I didn’t want to take my mouth off of it until I had sensed the last of the spasms I knew his bum hole and dicky would undergo during his kiddy cum. My finger wasn’t really all the way in, but with a final push it was. I twisted it around a little, turning it as well. Then I started fucking it in and out. Slowly to begin with then speeding it up a little. I could feel the hole give way more easily now. Without much thinking, I pulled my finger out. Only to stick in my middle finger with my index finger following it.
I had slowed down the inwards movement of my two fingers considerably as the index slipped in on top of the middle finger. Slowed, but not halted. I kept pushing the fingers inside in a very slow but never stopping motion. As the first joint of my index finger slipped through the now much tighter anus, the width of my combined fingers really started to increase. John was gasping and flexing his stomach and thigh muscles.
I knew he probably had never had anything of this size move into his bum before. But surely, he must have had bigger stuff pass out of it. So I wasn’t too concerned about hurting him physically. I had plenty of lube on my fingers. His hole was full of it as well. So I kept pushing. The second joint on both fingers were now at the outside of his anus. Waiting eagerly to join the first joints on the other side of the tight muscle. Inside the very hot core of the little boy lying in front of me.
They started on the journey. It was only such a short distance to travel. But I knew John would be able to feel every little step of the way. He had gone back to moaning. At least when he exhaled. He’d take a quick sharp intake of air, then let it out slowly making a high pitched moan while doing so. Whatever he did, it seemed to be working. His anus was losing the fight against my invading fingers.
“Ewww, that’s so yucky!” Andy said and pretended puking.
“Nuh uh, it’s sooo good,” John took a short break from his moaning.
“Never ever will I want that.”
“Good,” John managed to say, “more for me.”
“You can have it all.”
And that’s actually what John already had. I couldn’t possibly push further into his bum. My other fingers were resting next to the little hole. Not so little at the time. I briefly had a fleeting fantasy of my dick entering his hole. If it could take two fingers, my dick would surely fit in it too. I started moving my fingers back and then jabbing them inside again. From my experience last night, John liked it a little rough. Not like an experienced bottom would, but rough in the eyes of a little boy.
“Daddy, you’re hurting John!”
I guess the sounds John emitted could be taken as sounds of pain. To the untrained ear that is. I knew these sounds. They were not from pain, they were from a boy seriously enjoying himself. A boy who had submitted to the overwhelming feelings of pleasure. John was in no state to speak, and I didn’t want to abort what I was doing to try to explain. It wasn’t too long before he finally let go though. His little body must have felt like being hit by a speeding truck. He tensed up some ten seconds before the orgasm whisked him off to another place.
It was so powerful that he actually momentarily lost control of his bladder, not fully, thank the gods for that, but he spurted a very short stream of pee in my mouth. I was surprised at this, at first thinking that he came in my mouth, but quickly realizing it wasn’t the texture nor the taste of sperm in my mouth. It was the slightly salty and slightly bitter taste of boy pee. The short burst into my mouth wasn’t enough to fill it by any means. So I let it sit there in my mouth, trying to decide if I enjoyed it more than the taste of cum.
I don’t think I’ve ever let on that I enjoy or even tolerate the taste of cum. That’s because I really don’t. It’s salty and slimy. The pee I had in my mouth wasn’t slimy. It almost seemed like water. Just with a very different taste to it. I don’t think I’ll ever quite enjoy the taste of pee either. But I could tolerate it, at least what little John had accidently spurted into my mouth. I don’t think John ever realized he peed in my mouth. I never told him.
And I certainly didn’t tell Andy either. The little voyeur standing there next to the counter, eyes wide open and mouth agape. Not really understanding what he had just seen. It did take me some time to explain that it wasn’t pain John had gone through. John tried as well, but couldn’t really say what it had been like. Just that it had been the very best feeling in his life. He tried to convince Andy to just try it but Andy could be a very stubborn child.
“I told it once, I never ever wanna do that,” he finally said.
“But I wanna see it again!” He quickly added.
John gets a soda.
It wasn’t until a month later that Andy finally got to witness John and I having sex again. I had hoped for it to be sooner, but I didn’t want to be the instigator. John had to be the one to make the suggestion. I just had to get by with my old routine of wanking to porn late in the evening. Andy, as the great son he was, helped me out one late afternoon as well.
He was really meant to be at Michelle’s that day, but an old school friend of hers had called her and invited her out for coffee. So Andy was sent to my house while she was out. I was used to seeing John tagging along with Andy pretty much all of the time. That day Andy was alone when Michelle left him with a little smear of lipstick on his cheek at my doorstep.
“I’ll be back to pick him up before bed time,” she told me as she hurried towards the bus stop, “Thanks, Teddy!”
Andy was disgusted when he saw lipstick on his face, looking in the mirror I had in my little entrance hall. So my first task of that afternoon was to use a wet wipe to clean his cheek. When he was finally satisfied that there were no microscopic traces of lipstick left on his cheek, he grabbed my hand.
“Come daddy, let’s play!”
He dragged me into his room. He unzipped my pants, trying to undo the button.
“Why does it hafta be so complicated?” he whined, “You do it.”
I didn’t answer him, but did as ordered. When the button was undone, my pants fell to the floor leaving me in just my boxer briefs. Tight ones. I prefer to keep my balls tight to my body, hating the feeling of them bouncing all over the place as I walk. Yeah, I got low hanging balls. They hang lower than the head of my dick when it’s flaccid. Andy pulled down my briefs, just enough for my dick and balls to be uncovered.
My dick was slowly on the rise. Andy bent over a little and took it into his mouth. None to gentle, he grabbed hold of my ball sack as he tried to swallow my cock whole. I had started shaving my pubes off, after he once complained about getting hairs stuck in his teeth. His lips got real close to my pubis, but as my dick stretched as it responded to the attention, his lips ended further and further away from it. It didn’t stop him from trying.
He held two fingers around the base of my dick where his lips had been closest to the pubis. As he kept sucking me off, he tried to deep throat my dick, trying to get his lips to touch his fingers again. He went about this slowly, only taking a little bit more of my dick inside his mouth. When his gag reflex kicked in, he’d back off just a little. After swallowing the mouth water generated by his gagging, he’d go back in. He did eventually learn how to take all of my dick into his mouth and probably a little ways into his throat.
But that was a few years later when his mouth cavity had increased a little in depth. As it was, I got a lot of pleasure out of what he did. He didn’t like my sperm, seemed almost frightened of it, but he liked the taste of my pre-sperm. I didn’t really make tons of it, but he’d milk my dick while looking closely at the slit of my dick head. When he’d see the pre-sperm form at the slit, he would lick it up with the tip of his tongue.
Andy was quite the little cocksucker. I thanked John silently for teaching Andy how to suck so nicely. I didn’t actually know if he had taught him, but I’m sure Andy wasn’t born to be such a skilled cocksucker. It was quite the scene really. If you had been watching us from outside the window, you would have seen a slightly overweight man with his pants down around his ankles. Underwear lowered to the middle of his thighs.
A fully dressed boy standing in front of him, somewhat bent over busily sucking said man’s cock. If the window had been open, you would have heard the slight noises generated by his slobbering mouth, the sudden small gagging sounds from the boy. And as an overtone the slight moans and sounds of appreciation and affection coming from the man. You’d see the man use his hands to caress the boy’s head, mess up his hair in the process.
I gently tried liberating my cock from Andy’s onslaught just before I came. He understood what was about to happen, having witnessed my orgasm a number of times by then. Instead of moving as far away as possible, he tilted his head and moved his mouth to the underside of my dick. He tickled the head with his tongue, nursed my frenulum as I whacked my dick for the short time it took for orgasm to hit me. My sperm shot out, clearing his mouth by the shortest of distances possible.
As the shots turned into oozing, sperm got onto his cheek. I saw it happen and thought Andy would quickly move out of the way, screaming ‘EWW’ as he frantically tried to get the sperm off his face without using his hands. However, his mouth never left my dick until I was done. After the orgasm left my body in the normal relaxed state, albeit with a galloping heart and heavy breathing, Andy let go of my dick.
“Did I do good?” he asked me.
“You did GREAT!”
“Now get your yucky cum offa me.”
I laughed at my son’s words, but pulled up my pants and went for a damp washcloth. I tenderly wiped off the stuff that had been part of creating the little boy in front of me. A boy now fully able to express his utter displeasure towards it.
“Now me?” he asked when he deemed that all of the sticky substance had gone from his face.
“Yes, now you.”
I pulled his pants and tight batman briefs down to his ankles and placed him on his back on the bed. I got down on my knees in front of him and had him hold on to his legs as he lay doubled over.
“No finger!” he made sure, I knew where the limit was.
“No fingers, I promise,” I said as I dived in on his little anus.
Andy may not have liked the sensation of something entering his little hole, but he sure enjoyed when I massaged the outside of it. I loved listening to his happy sounds as I teased his opening with my tongue. True to my word, I didn’t try to finger him, I would have loved to do it, but I loved him too much than to betray his trust. I knew he was much more interested in having his dicky played with, so after a few more minutes lapping at his hole, I let him bring his legs down again.
I fondled his little dicky, it was stiff and I had fun fiddling with his floppy foreskin. It was fortunately loose enough to glide effortless down baring his little helmet and back up to protect it from the environment. I stuck my little finger into his foreskin, supported by the fingers of my other hand. All the way in my finger tip explored, making the skin swell out indicating where my finger was. I gently circled it around his helmet stopping when the path was blocked by the frenulum.
When I tried to do the same with my tongue it proved impossible. His foreskin was unfortunately too small and just slid down and off his helmet. Andy sure didn’t mind the failure of my experiment. He was partway giggling and cooing from the sensation of my tongue on his sensitive skin. While my hands caressed his thighs and tummy I sucked him to his version of an orgasm. As he basked in the feelings afterwards I gently massaged the bared parts of his body.
As I said in the beginning of this chapter, I was really hoping for a repeat with John. The following Saturday where he spent the night was a disappointment in that regard. Sure he let me bathe him, but didn’t ask or even as much as give a little hint that he wanted to have my finger up his sweet bum again.
‘I’ll just have to wait for the next sleepover for it to happen,’ I thought, as I stroked my dick watching porn that late Saturday evening after the boys had been put to bed. And both were sleeping. I had checked twice to see if John was really out for the night.
But, it turned out I only had to wait another twelve days. I had picked up Andy from his kindergarten and John from the afterschool care center early that Thursday afternoon. I simply put had nothing to do at work and was bored out of my mind. So I had punched out at the start of my lunch break. I don’t know if the boys were so happy to see me arriving just after 1:30 PM, but they did at least come home with me without any fussing, even if they had to stop having fun with the game they were playing.
That Thursday was rainy and quite cold. Gloomy sky and windy. So whatever we were going to do, would have to be indoors. I parked the boys in front of the TV while I made some lunch for myself. The boys had already eaten their lunches at the kindergarten. I had just finished eating and sat down in the lazy chair.
“Daddy, I wanna see you stick your finger in John’s bum again,” Andy said from the couch.
He was laying with his legs up against the back cushion, his back on the seat and his head hanging over the edge of the seat, watching TV upside down. Not an altogether rare thing for him to do, but I can’t help but wonder how he could make anything out of what he saw. I looked at him, then at John. Back at Andy.
“Tiger, maybe John doesn’t want me to stick my finger in his bum,” I told him, “Did you ask him what he wants?”
“No, but I know he wants to,” he said, as if it was something obvious to everyone. Like when you go to sleep, you’ll wake up at some later time.
I looked over at John, who was sitting indian style on the sofa, farthest away from me. He was looking at me. The look on his face was kind of hard to tell. At first his expression really stated surprise, then his cheeks turned quite red. And finally, that little smile that I’ve really fallen in love with.
“Do you?” I asked.
John nodded his head.
“Okay buddy. We have to make you go potty first.”
I got up from my chair and held out my hand to John. He took it and we walked to the bathroom, hand in hand. Andy grabbed hold of my other hand, he didn’t want to miss a thing. I sat on the toilet and started undressing John.
“John, we need to get the poop out of your bum so it doesn’t end up all over my fingers, right buddy?”
I saw Andy wrinkle up his nose at the mentioning of poop. John did too, but not as exaggerated as Andy.
“How?” John asked me, “I don’t feel like pooping.”
“I kind of figured you wouldn’t, but there are ways to make it happen anyway,” I explained, “don’t worry, I promise it won’t hurt. You might actually like it.”
The way that little tyke loved my fingers in his bum, I was sure the experience of having his bum filled slowly with warm water wouldn’t be uncomfortable for him. I just had to make sure not to put too much of it inside of him. I had been taking off his clothes as I quietly went over the procedure with him. I helped him get into position on the changing pad, a position with his bum as far up in the air as possible.
On the shelf above him, was the enema kit that I’ve used on myself the times when I wanted to be fucked. It was a bag able to hold about a liter of saline water, a tube about 1.5 meters in length and a 15 cm long thin nozzle. I had used this on Andy a few times too, at times when he was constipated. He didn’t like it very much, but he knew it made him feel a lot better after the water had done its job.
I don’t think John ever had one before that time. But he didn’t seem too fazed about it. He lay there on the changing pad, keeping a watchful eye of everything I did. I filled the bag about halfway up with temperate water, and put in the right amount of pure sea salt, before giving it a vigorous shake to have the salt mix with the water. I hung the bag from the top shelf about 50 cm higher than the top of John’s buttocks.
Making sure he watched what I was doing, I lubricated the thin nozzle, and pointed out just how far inside his butt it would go. He looked relived that it was only about 5 cm of the nozzle that would enter him. I placed a small dollop of lubrication on his anus.
He nodded and I gently pushed the nozzle into his opening, making sure I got the angle just right. I didn’t want to hurt him, not now when he was showing me this level of trust.
“Here it comes, just relax and let it slowly fill your tummy, buddy.”
I opened the valve enough to get the water flowing, but at a slow pace. I didn’t want him to cramp up from the unfamiliar feeling of having his rectum and part of his colon filled with water. I kept praising him and caressing his little upturned bum cheeks while the water went inside. Kept informing him just how much water was left to go. It took about five minutes for the water to disappear into his body.
“You got it all, big boy,” I praised him, “Now tighten up your bum hole as I pull out the nozzle. We don’t want the water to escape.”
I could feel his cheeks firm up as he did what I asked him to do. I gently removed the nozzle and put the entire enema kit in the sink for later cleaning. John lay still in the same position, the only slight movement was his butt cheeks every so often relaxing for just a brief second before firming up again.
“Ten minutes like this and then you can go on the toilet,” I told the quiet boy. He nodded affirmatively at me.
The ten minutes passed slowly by, I stayed with John all the way through, gently massaging his back, bum and the back of his thighs. Basically what I could reach in the position he was in. Andy had gotten bored after about two minutes and left for the slightly more exciting TV.
“Yell for me when he gotta go,” he told me as he left.
Andy really couldn’t wait, he spent more time running back and forth from the bathroom to the TV than sitting in front of it, every time getting a negative reply to his question if John was ready. Why he was so excited about seeing John sitting on the toilet I didn’t know. But he wouldn’t miss it for the world.
“I think I really have to go now,” John told me sounding a bit alarmed.
So I helped him over to the toilet. I carried him over to it, so he wouldn’t strain down at the wrong time. I won’t go into details of what happened as he sat there, I’m sure you can easily imagine it, without me having to paint a picture of it. He spent about 20 minutes emptying himself while I cleaned the enema kit and kept an eye on him. Andy had left the bathroom just after John let go. I got John cleaned up as he leaned forward on the toilet. Now he was finally ready for the big event.
All three of us went into my bedroom, John still naked as the day he was born. Andy and I fully dressed. I helped my son take his clothes off as John hopped up on my bed and sat watching us. When Andy was naked as well, I bundled up the two duvets from my bed and had John lie face down on top of them. I had gotten an idea when he was on the changing pad in the bathroom with his butt held high into the air.
“Dad, it’s not fair that me and John are nekid and you’re not,” Andy interrupted my train of thoughts.
“I guess not, want to help me get my clothes off?”
I undid my trouser button and allowed Andy to pull down my pants.
“I want to help too,” John said from the bed as he stood up on it. I undid a few of the shirt buttons and John pulled it off my body by taking hold of the sleeves.
“Sit!” Andy commanded me like I was his dog and not his dad.
But I did sit down, by then my underwear had followed my trousers, bunched up around my ankles. While John freed me from my t-shirt, Andy removed the socks from my feet. Briskly my trousers and underwear followed the socks onto the floor. It was highly erotic being stripped by two eager young boys. My dick was certainly hard as a rock. Well, to be perfectly honest, it had been ever since I started undressing John in the bathroom.
Andy’s little dicky was still flaccid, where John’s was in the same state as mine. Sticking straight up in the air as he stood there on the bed next to me.
“Come, down you go, buddy,” I told him as I rearranged the duvets. I guess John could just as easily have gotten into the same position as on the changing pad. His lower legs flat on the pad, thighs at a 90 degree angle, stomach touching the thighs and head resting on one cheek on the pad. But, I wanted him to be more comfortable as I had plans for a longer session with him that time.
John got back down on top of the duvets that pushed his little bum somewhat up as they were under his groin and lower belly. His legs were spread out a little, parting his bum cheeks just enough for me to have an unobstructed view to his anus. The gateway to the inner parts of his hot body.
“Andy, lie down in front of John. So he can suck on your dicky.”
My son had crawled onto my bed and was on hands and knees next to me, behind John.
“I wanna see you stick your finger in!” he pouted.
“You won’t be able to see anything yet, tiger. So, just do it, okay?”
“Aw, daddy. Okaaay.”
He may have been pouting when he said that, but soon after I could hear the giggles from him as I saw John started licking his friend’s dicky. I had some serious licking to do as well. I knew John’s rectum and probably a lot of his bowels had to be clear of anything foul, and I’ve always been a huge fan of prolonged butt licking. I love when the anus relaxes so much that I can push my tongue into it without much of an effort. And John was the perfect specimen for just that.
First and foremost, he actually liked having his butt played with. Second, he was completely hairless in the important places. Okay, there may have been a little downy patches of very short fine hairs, but that was all. Third, he loved letting me play with it. I’m not sure he understood just how much it meant to me that he allowed me to do those things to him and his butt. But he must have realized my fingers lingered far longer between his cheeks than was absolute necessary when I bathed him.
Right then, as I got down on my belly behind the boy with the object of my desires so close by, I thought I had to be the luckiest guy on the planet. I placed my hands on his cheeks and gently spread them a little more. The skin on his butt cheeks formed little ridges of wrinkles as it narrowed to attach to the anus. The color changed ever so little from a lighter shade pink on his butt cheeks to a darker shade near the vertical slit in his butt hole.
As I lay there, just observing John’s oh so beautiful opening, mostly intended as a way to let waste out of his body, but also could be used for much more pleasurable things; I could hear the moans and giggles from my boy. I must have been lost in the sight of John’s anus for a few minutes, but the boys were busy doing their own thing. I enjoyed the slight rippling movement of his butt cheeks as John brought pleasure and joy to my son. I blew air ever so gentle at his butt hole, watching it pucker up and both felt and heard John giggle from the sensation of it.
Wanting to see his reaction to it, I blew much stronger at his anus, bringing my mouth closer as I did. His giggling increased, ending in uncontrolled laughter as my mouth connected to his butt hole and blew a raspberry at it. If I hadn’t held onto his butt cheeks he would have launched himself away from my surprise attack on his vulnerable little bumhole. His laughter died when I started lapping at his bum hole. He didn’t moan out loud, but he emitted small happy grunts.
I made out with the little boy in front of me. Switched from lapping to kissing, licking and probing with my tongue. All the while enjoying the feel of his firm, yet pliant sphincter slowly dilating under my constant attack. Only to jerk back into being the tightest of all the muscles the boy had. Gradually letting itself be lured into relaxation by my love making tongue. As if it was forgetting all about its most important job, to keep that opening closed by any means unless something was wanting to leave.
As if it was thinking ‘surely that nice, warm thing trying to snake itself inside can’t be meaning any harm.’
Finally the muscle gave in, letting my tongue have reasonably unobstructed access to the heavens waiting on just the other side. I wished for my tongue to grow to able to slide even further inside. To be able to reach the happy spot I knew was just a bit further in. It was only inches away, maybe just one, but could just as well have been on the moon. There was just no way I was going to reach it with the tip of my tongue. Reluctantly I removed my tongue from the hole it had spent so long to enter.
I moved my head back a little to have another look at the mysterious, almost fabled private spot of the boy in front of me. I watched the hole, yes for it was right then a hole, no longer just a slit in between tightly pressed together skin. It was quivering a little, as if it was missing the loving feel of my tongue in it. Yet, it stayed open. It wasn’t gaping of course, a little less than a quarter in size. A quarter that been compressed to make an oval.
I seriously considered to fuck this child’s butt raw right there and then. To not give a flying shit as to the consequences that would surely follow. I mean, John would probably have let me if I were to ask him. But I came to my senses as I realized that although he might enjoy it as I’d fuck him, he would be really sore afterwards. And with the boy having to leave for home in time for dinner, he’d probably be walking funny or at least fidget while sitting at the dinner table. His parents would for sure ask him what was wrong.
‘No, it’ll just have to wait for a sleepover,’ I thought, ‘but there’s still room for having more fun.’
After all, I had spent the better part of an hour getting his colon cleaned out.
“Andy, tiger, toss me the lube, it’s on the night stand.”
“You gonna put your finger in now?” Andy asked with eager in his voice.
“Yes sir, I am.”
“Can I do it, daddy? Can I John? Please!”
“You wanna play with my butt,” John said happily, but surprised, “Sure!”
“I thought you didn’t want to do that, tiger?” I asked as Andy happily bounced his way down the bed towards me.
“I don’t want to if it’s poopy,” he explained as he sat down next to me, “there’s no poop now, is there?”
“No poop at all, son.”
“Cool. I wanna do it then. I gonna stick my finger in your bum. All the way in, John.”
“Just don’t hurt me,” John said.
I checked my son’s fingers before I lubed one of them up for him. Particularly the state of his finger nails. I had finally gotten him to stop biting them not that long ago. It had been a hard battle with a lot of different approaches. Michelle and I had tried to tell him simply not to do it, he just stopped biting them when we could see it. But did it when he was alone or thought we wouldn’t see. It was quite hard for him to hide the evidence though. We then tried using clear nail polish on his nails, but he just bit them anyway.
Then we tried some products specifically made for the purpose of getting kids to stop biting their nails. He didn’t like the taste at all, but would lick his nails then spit out the sour tasting stuff. He’d do that until the taste wasn’t too offensive for him and then he’d happily bite his nails again. And swallow the small pieces. Really nasty habit. I ended up borrowing a microscope from a friend of mine, then gently scraped a little of the stuff underneath his nails onto a little piece of glass. I let him see just what it is that lives there.
Andy, my poor boy, had bad dreams for a week, dreaming of giant monsters trying to eat him, but at least he never bit his nails again. It also did wonders to his handwashing. I guess that’s pretty mean, but I don’t think I caused any lasting damage to him.
But it meant I had to take a look at his nails to see that they were short and smooth enough not to cause damage to John’s butt. Fortunately they were just fine, so I put a little lube on his index, then a small dollop right on John’s anus.
“Okay, tiger. Put your finger slowly inside John’s bum.”
“Okay daddy,” he said and practically jammed his finger to the hilt inside poor John.
“Ow!” John said loudly, “Andy you little,” and then he cut himself off.
“Sorry John, I didn’t mean to,” Andy said, quickly removing his finger.
I’m sure it really didn’t hurt John all that much. Andy’s finger was quite small. He probably just had a good scare, having a finger jammed up his little ass chute like that. I explained to Andy that he couldn’t just jam his finger inside a bum like that. That he had to push it in really slow. Then showed him how with my own finger.
I did have to convince John’s previously so accepting anus to open the doors again, it clearly didn’t trust me not to do the same as Andy had. But eventually I got my finger worked in without complaints from John. When I got him nice and loose, I let Andy have a go at it again.
He grinned at me as he slowly pushed in and out. I showed him how to use two fingers, but really made a point of telling the boys not to do this without my supervision. I had John move back up on his knees as I removed the duvets from underneath him. Andy didn’t let up his finger fucking as I got myself situated underneath John. I started sucking John’s dicky as Andy finger fucked him. After a minute I felt John’s hands and then his mouth on my own dick. I reached my arm back, hoping to be able to stroke Andy’s dick.
He was too far away, but as he saw my searching fingers, he moved himself into position and let me fondle his dick and balls. They were still slick with John’s spittle from when he had licked and sucked Andy. This was what life was supposed to be like, all of the time. In bed with two little boys enjoying having sex. I was too busy looking at Andy’s fingers going in and out of John’s bum hole, to keep track of how long we did stay on the bed that cold, rainy Thursday afternoon. Either Andy or I, maybe the both of us, really made John happy.
His licking and sucking of my dick, combined with his gentle fondling of my nuts brought me ever closer to my orgasm. I tried to fight it off, wanted to continue for another hour of making love to my two sweet boys. At the very least for another hour. I tried to force myself to spit out the little erection happily thrusting into my mouth, to stop my own hips moving. I wanted to tell John to halt, if only for a few seconds, to prolong the happy feelings radiating from my dick head. I finally put my mind to it, but it was a moment too late.
I felt the first contraction of my ball sack. I felt slightly cheated, but then the orgasm hit me completely. I tried to warn John that sperm was about to shoot into his mouth, but it’s hard to talk with something in your mouth. John kept sucking on my dick, even as I could feel my asshole tighten up rhythmically, about once every second. I knew he must have realized something came out of my dick as I felt him swallow at least a few times.
He still kept sucking my dick. As my dick became too sensitive for his tongue rolling over it, I finally pushed up on the lithe boy and got out from underneath him.
“Thanks buddy,” I told him, “But you got to stop.”
He moved his mouth from my dick and looked at me, swallowing a few more times.
“What happened?” He asked.
“You gave me the super tickles,” I told him. Trying to keep it to terms he’d understand.
“Did you pee in my mouth?”
“No buddy, I’d never do that,” I promised, while thinking ‘not unless you’d want me to.’
“It’s just something that happens when men get their tickles,” I went on, “They shoot sperm made inside their balls.”
“I drank it, will I get sick?” John sounded a little worried.
“Yuck! You drank sperm?!” Andy exclaimed, “EWW!”
“Calm down tiger,” I said to Andy, “Buddy, you won’t get sick from it. There’s nothing bad in sperm.”
Yeah, like you really wanted me to explain AIDS and other STDs to a seven years old? I’d have that talk with the boys when they got older. Not right then, it was really more a matter of not having a kid throw up.
“It wasn’t that bad, Andy,” John said, “It taste a little like your pee.”
That statement made Andy blush and cast his eyes down.
“Hey tiger, it’s okay, John isn’t making fun of you.”
“I know,” he mumbled and hugged John.
I hugged both of my boys. One my son, the other my little friend with benefits. No, John was much more than that. I wasn’t thinking of him as my lover, but he was really starting to be part of the household. If he wasn’t present, both Andy and I would actually mope around, probably both of us thinking ‘if only John was here, it would be so much more fun.’ At least I had that thought more than a few times.
I really didn’t want to end our sex that afternoon without the boys having an orgasm themselves, but they both let me know that they did get their fair share of ‘tickles’ while we had been playing. I scolded myself silently for not having noticed. There’s not much more fulfilling in life than to witness a boy having a kiddy cum, a dry orgasm. Well, I can think of a few things, but it’s quite an experience really. After wiping the remaining lube off of John’s butt and all three of us washing our fingers, I poured three big glasses of Coca Cola.
The boys really had earned themselves a little treat. They had probably worked off enough energy to justify the big intake of sugar, too.
Andy, the new Lance Armstrong?
I do hope you understand that the sex the boys and I had, wasn’t all we did together. It was in fact only a small fraction of what went on, in and around my house. It’s just that I don’t think you’re too interested in all the other things a small family of two, sometimes, okay a lot of the time, three people did together. That’s why I leave most of the more normal stuff out. But, I want to write about cycling a little. No, not racing, Tour de France has just ended anyway.
Just the normal everyday bike riding that kids do. In Denmark it’s not just the kids who ride bikes. I know several people who live in Copenhagen that don’t own a car, but only have bicycles. It’s not a matter of not having the money to buy a car. It’s just that having a car isn’t needed. It’s more of an inconvenience to have a car there, as there’s a real shortage on parking spaces. And it’s just so much easier for parents to be able to send their kids to school and sports on their bikes.
When they get old enough to safely ride on their own, of course. Andy, at age five, very soon to be six, was not old enough yet, far from it. But he loved riding his bike all the same anyway. There was one problem though, he still rode around using training wheels. I had tried a couple of times before to teach him how to ride without, but he was terrified of losing his balance and crash.
“But dad, I’ll just fall and break my neck. Then I’ll die and you’ll be sad,” he told me the last time I tried to convince him to get on his bike, after I had unbolted the training wheels.
He was stubborn. I think I’ve said that before. When he put his mind up to something, he was a tough nut to crack and made to think otherwise. Particularly if it was something he absolutely did not want to do. Instead of trying to teach a crying and scared boy how to ride properly, I had put the training wheels back on. Fortunately John already knew how to ride a bike like a big boy. Every time the boys were out racing their bikes in our small relatively safe town street, John would win.
Well, he let Andy win from time to time, as that was just the kind of boy John was. Some of the time it was so obvious to me that he’d slow down and let Andy pass him just a few meters before the finish line. A few times it was too obvious for even Andy to fail noticing it.
“Don’t let me win John,” he’d pout, “it’s no fun if you do that.”
He did have a point but Andy was a sore loser. He wouldn’t start crying, but he’d really get mad. At himself, not at John. If allowed to, he’d belittle himself to the point where he’d say the worse things about himself.
“I’ll never get anything right.”
“I’ll never be a fireman, I’m just a baby that pisses himself every night!”
“No one will ever love me.”
I could go on, but it breaks my heart just to write those examples. I could usually snap him out of it, but as he grew older, it became much harder to convince him that he was very smart. Intelligent really, and that it wasn’t his fault that he was wetting his bed. That he could indeed grow up to be a firefighter if that was what he wanted to do. More importantly he was loved, always had been and always would be. No matter what he might do or not.
This time he was adamant that he’d never be able to beat John fair and square. That he’d always have to be helped. And so on.
“Hey tiger. Andy, quiet. Listen to me,” I tried.
“No, there’s nothing I can do…”
“Andy, zip it, now.”
I really didn’t like talking to my son like that. It wasn’t often I had to, fortunately. Not back then. But he did at least shut up. I sat down on the curb and had him sit next to me. John stood in front of us, bike between his legs.
“Now, tiger. Do you know why John always win?”
“Cuz I’m a loser.”
“You’re not a loser. It’s only because of the training wheels,” I said.
Andy looked at me like I was crazy.
“It is. You see, when John rides his bike, he can tilt it when he rides around a corner. That means he can ride a lot faster around corners than you can.”
I checked the street for any cars approaching. There were none.
“John, can you ride around in a big circle?” I asked, “Just do it in front of us.”
John nodded and set off. He rode his bike two complete circles and then I asked him to pick up speed. As he did, he had to lean more over to his side to keep from making the circle wider and end up on the sidewalk. I pointed it out to Andy.
“You can’t do that with the training wheels on your bike,” I ended my explanation and told John he could stop pedaling around if he wanted.
“Then I don’t want those stupid training wheels anymore,” my son said and went over to his bike and kicked at the nearest of them.
Okay, Andy was stubborn and smart, but I could still outsmart him and turn his stubbornness into something that would work for both of us. I really just had to use logic or science to get my point across. As it was, I had to quickly get the bike out of Andy’s reach as he was really kicking the crap out of that training wheel. They are quite sturdy but really can’t take a boy kicking at and jumping on it. Andy’s intention was very clear, he wanted those training wheels off his bike, even if he had to destroy the bike in the process.
A quick five minutes later with the use of a wrench, I had taken off the training wheels. I had originally planned to sell or pass them on to someone else who’d need them, but they really weren’t salvageable. Not after the damage Andy had caused to one of them. They went into the bin I had for metal stuff going to be recycled.
When Andy saw his bike with no training wheels, reality suddenly kicked in.
“Daddy, I don’t know how to ride my bike now,” he said worriedly.
I thought back to how I was taught to ride a bike without training wheels. My dad had taken the stick from an old sweeper and installed it on my bike. It was tied to the back of the saddle and went down to the crank, where the pedals connects to the frame of the bike. There it was just jammed in and sat tight. He could then help me keep my balance, although it wasn’t easy the first few times we did it. I did have some falls, particularly when turning.
I’d lean over far too much for my dad to hold me upright and I’d tumble off it. That’s probably why we always practiced on a lawn before moving onto the sidewalks and eventually the tarmac of the streets. My backyard wasn’t really large enough to have a kid learning how to ride a bike. So I got both boys into the back of the Volvo, bikes in the trunk along with an old broom. And off we went to the soccer field at the school where the boys would eventually be enrolled.
It was a sunny spring day, not really warm but not freezing cold either. The grass in the field had been mowed not long before we got there, so conditions were great. John rode his bike from the carpark and Andy ran after him pushing his bike next to him. I followed at a more civilized pace with the broomstick and a length of steel wire. It had probably been easier to get the broomstick mounted on the bike at home in my garage, but it’s always easy to be smart in hindsight.
At least the kids were occupied, as I did my best to get the damned broomstick to stay where I wanted it, while keeping the bike upright and then get the steel wire wrapped tightly around. In the end I was finally satisfied that the stick would not come loose. I called for Andy, who was running after John riding his bike on the field.
“Don’t let me fall daddy,” Andy said before getting onto his bike.
His fears soon forgotten as he thought it extremely funny to make his old man run like a slave pushing his master around the field.
“Faster daddy, faster!” He’d yell as I was already running at my maximum speed.
I wasn’t in real bad shape, but smoking cigarettes daily, and far too many really, did have me puffing for air far sooner than I really care to admit.
“Use the pedals, Andy,” John shouted as he zoomed past us for the umpteenth time, “That’s it.”
When I thought Andy was getting the hang of it, I let go of the broomstick. I kept my hand close, fingers at the ready to grab hold of it again if he’d start to tip to either side. He managed to ride for about 10 meters or 30 feet on his own. Then I had to grab hold and help him find the balance again. Andy never knew I let him ride without help. When I finally had to sit for a while to slow my racing heart and sort out my lungs, John took over for me.
He wasn’t tall enough to hold on to the broomstick as I had of course, but he held onto the carrier on the back of the bike as he pushed and steadied Andy laughing his little head off. I sat there on a bench overlooking the field and watched the boys. I could smell the freshly mowed grass, hear the laughter from the boys. Enjoyed the rays from the sun that even this early in spring actually felt warm. Through my half closed eyelids, I saw Andy lean towards the left.
John was doing the best he could to get Andy upright and prevent him from crashing. It was a losing fight for the young boy. Riding in an ever narrowing circle, Andy finally turned the handlebars too much and was sent flying off the bike. Now that the bike had no rider, it quickly crashed taking John down along with it. I heard the high pitched squeals from first Andy and immediately afterwards John joined in. Before I could get to my feet, a cackling laughter reached my ears.
The laughter was contagious so I joined in with a few chuckles of my own. Andy turned over on his back slowly, and propped his head up.
“Did you see it daddy?” his voice reached my ears, “Did you see me?”
“I saw you.”
“That must be the worse crash ever!” he bubbled.
“I think it was high up on the list,” I agreed, not wanting to spoil my son’s mood.
“It was the best!” John chipped in.
Fortunately this small crash didn’t make Andy scared of riding a bike without training wheels. He got right back in the saddle, this time with me guiding him again. He didn’t learn how to ride without help that day, my fitness not really up to the task. But he did eventually learn by practicing for an hour every day. There were plenty more crashes of course, nevertheless Andy never quit or even expressed the wish to do so.
It really wasn’t all that long until I let go of the broomstick for the final time. When I let go of that stick and stopped running, Andy didn’t notice it until he had gotten at least a hundred feet away from me.
“Daddy! I’m doing it. I’m riding my bike!” He yelled with glee after he had looked over his shoulder.
It filled me with joy and pride to see my son happily pedaling further and further away from me. Oh, he did eventually return to me, it isn’t as if he just kept pedaling into the sunset never to be seen again.
Summer, preschool and school.
Andy turned six, spring turned into summer and before I knew it, school let out. Over the year, Michelle and I had saved some money for a 14 days long camping trip. We rented a caravan and hitched it up to my old Volvo. I prayed for it being up to the task of hauling around 1400 pounds without breaking down in a huge cloud of steam or worse. Lyle had helped me preparing the car and told me there should be no problems, but it sure wasn’t getting any younger.
Andy was thrilled, he thought it was really cool to have our temporary home following us around wherever we’d go. He was also thrilled that he wasn’t sitting alone on the backseat of the car. Behind me sat none other than John. It had taken quite a lot of pleading from John and Andy to convince Lyle and Cheryl that they should let John go with us. Lyle and Cheryl had asked us more than once if it was okay. Lyle didn’t look too pleased with the idea of not seeing his son for a whole two weeks.
In the end, Michelle pointed out a few convincing facts. First of all, the boys had a long summer break. John’s even longer than Andy’s. John had been attending preschool the previous year and would start first grade after the summer. Meaning he had 7 weeks of nothing to do. Andy could at least still go to the nursery school for all those weeks, if we had wanted or needed him to. Cheryl had only three weeks of summer vacation time. Lyle had even less, as he was now the owner of the repair shop.
If he took too many days off, it would seriously impact his income. So we’d get John out of their hair for two weeks, making sure he would have a very nice time. And they would still be able to go on holiday with their family intact as we (Michelle and I) made sure our trip was taking place while Cheryl would still be working. We even offered to take Jane with us so they could have some time to themselves. Cheryl didn’t want that at all.
“Lyle spends so much time at the repair shop, I’ll be all alone for too long. No, Jane stays at home!”
In the end they caved in. They insisted to have John talk to them every evening on Live Messenger. That wasn’t a problem, I was going to bring my laptop on the trip anyway. Just in case anything happened at work that would require my attention. Oh, it wasn’t as if I was the only option if a server would crash, but I liked being in control. Even if we had 24/7, four hours response service contracts on the most important servers, I didn’t like to leave it in the hands of outsiders to get the servers back up and running.
Mostly I’d troubleshoot the problem, then have the server vendor ship the parts needing replacement and swap it myself. I had been working in the service and support section of the server vendor for a couple of years before I got the job as systems administrator with one of the major customers. So I knew the supporters taking my calls, they had been my colleagues and friends. That also enabled me to do the repairs on my own without voiding the warranty.
It was one of the major reasons I was hired in the first place. Another reason was when I had been at the job interview, I had been shown around and I was informed of how they monitored everything was running as it should. Well, they were monitoring the software, not the hardware. So I asked them if they were aware that the hardware in all their servers could be monitored too. Then told them they had quite a few failed hard drives when we went into the server room.
They hadn’t realized this as the hard drives were set up in failover raids. Which basically means a cluster of hard drives works as one, and one of these hard drives can crash but the system will keep running. A little slower, but it’ll run. Until another hard drive fails. The very next morning after the interview I was offered a job. Not the one I had applied for, but they had found money in their budget to create a position for me. I’d be able to influence what my responsibilities were going to be.
Anyway, I brought the laptop with me on the trip so I could hook up to the company network if needed. It wasn’t, but John was able to sit and talk to his parents using video conference every night as agreed.
We stayed in Denmark, went to Jutland on the west coast where there are some fantastic beaches and caravan sites. We brought a small tent where the boys could sleep right next to the caravan. Michelle and I slept in the caravan, not only sleeping but used it for other bed activities too. Yes, I’m gay, but I could enjoy myself in the company of Michelle. I don’t think it’s too different from pleasing her to what I did with Henry growing up. She didn’t have to know that I was really thinking of having sex with our son or John while I entertained her, right?
Having sex with either of the boys on that trip wasn’t a possibility at all. I did volunteer to take Andy to the family bathroom at the caravan sites to get him cleaned up after his nightly wetting. Which had yet to let up at the time. Andy was by now old enough to bathe himself, but really enjoyed having me bathe him. At Michelle’s house he’d bathe on his own, at mine, the honors of washing his little boy body fell to me. I don’t think Michelle knew I gave him baths still, but it really wasn’t a secret.
So, the two weeks we spent vacationing was pretty much like any normal family vacation. We spent the mornings after breakfast splashing in the sea. Michelle would be working on her tan, while I rested in the shade of a beach parasol keeping an eye on the boys. Both the two we had brought with us, and other small boys who happened to be at the beach. I made sure Andy and John was well protected by a healthy amount of sunblock.
Oh, they complained about it. But I simply let them know if they weren’t covered in sunblock then they’d be stuck with me under the parasol. I didn’t want them to experience what I had in Pula when I was 11. Because Denmark is so much further to the north, the sun isn’t as brutal as in the southern part of Europe. It’ll still burn you, just takes a little more time.
We’d eat lunch in the caravan, cutting back a bit on the expenses by making it ourselves. It was the typical Danish lunch consisting of rye bread with a fine layer of butter and various toppings. It could be either salami, liver pâté (which the boys loved, yeah it’s an acquired taste, but really nice), sliced chicken breast meat and a whole range of other things. Even fruit toppings like fig, which I hate. I guess I’ve still got a bit of a picky eater left in me.
Afternoons where it would be too hot to do anything outside we went to museums, visited farms and did other cultural learning activities. We’d have dinner wherever we happened to be close by at that time. Small inns, restaurants, pizzerias and yes even the annoying family ‘restaurant’ that caters so much to children. Okay, their burgers are good, but after you belch once, you’re hungry again. I even said that before we went inside. Which to Michelle’s dismay the boys took as a challenge.
They both wanted large sodas to their meals and before we left they had a refill. So for the next hour they had a competition of who could make their belches last the longest and sound the highest. They were actually quite impressing, to me that is.
“If you don’t stop those disgusting sounds, I’ll make you walk back to the caravan!” Michelle informed the boys.
We were on a busy country road about 15 miles from the caravan. So the boys stopped. At least until I had parked the car next to the caravan. As soon as the boys were outside, Andy let loose with one of the longest burps I’ve ever heard.
“Sorry, mom,” he looked sheepishly at Michelle, “I couldn’t hold it any longer.”
The boys went to the toilet building and while they were gone I told Michelle that she should be happy.
“Why?” she asked me.
“The trapped gas could just as easily have found another way out of the boys.”
“Damn, Teddy. You’re just as awful as them at times!”
When the boys joined us, John sat talking to his parents on the laptop in one end of the caravan as the rest of us played ‘go fish’. We’d play different games with the boys, until I’d help Andy into his disposable diaper and they were sent off to their tent to sleep. Michelle and I would talk a little, I’d check my emails, and she would read magazines or do crosswords puzzles. Sometimes we’d watch a movie on the TV while lying in bed.
And most nights just before going to sleep, she’d want me to jump her bones. I think she had more sex those 14 days than the rest of the year combined. I’m not really complaining as she also enjoyed anal sex, which really isn’t too different from fucking a guy. The moans were maybe slightly more high pitched and the hips a bit wider.
So, why didn’t I marry Michelle you may be wondering? I could probably have proposed to her and she’d say yes. But in all fairness, it wouldn’t have worked. I loved Michelle as a very dear friend and as the mother of my only child. But I’d never be able to love her as her husband. How could I be her husband when I really wanted a husband of my own? I’d always be on the lookout for guys to either fuck or get fucked by. So no, while the thought had crossed my mind to propose to her, it just wasn’t realistic.
After the trip, the summer seemed to pass so quickly. All of a sudden it was the last Friday before Andy was to start his one year of preschool. John would start first grade. It was in the same wing of the public school, so they’d be able to play with each other during recess if they wanted. It was a major event for both of them. The transition from nursery school to preschool would be the hardest, even if the teachers had done what they could to prepare the kids for the “real” school.
John was able to explain a lot to Andy, and Michelle and I would be there for some of the time that first day anyway. I was a little apprehensive of Andy starting school. He would be one of the smallest boys in his class. Heck, one of the smallest kids there. A lot of the girls were taller than him. I hoped for the same level of comradery in his class as I had experienced in mine. Yeah, I can still remember that time when Thomas tried to out me in front of the entire class.
However I had been not only one of the older kids in my class, but actually the oldest. And I didn’t have the same problems with bedwetting as Andy had. He still didn’t complain about having to wear a diaper at night, well apart from when he’d get mad at himself. But not when he was his usual happy self. What would happen when he was invited to a sleepover? Kids can be so bloody mean to each other particularly if they can single someone out for being different in some way or another.
I had done some research on the topic of bedwetting and most of the results said not to put any kind of pressure on the child until he or she complained about it. I wasn’t sure if Andy calling himself a baby during his tantrums lived up to that requirement. Michelle was no help at all, not regarding this.
“As long as Andy is happy, I’m happy,” she’d say, “I don’t mind checking if he put on his diaper properly before he goes to bed.”
Yeah, at her house he had started to put his cloth diaper on by himself and wearing plastic pants. At mine, we both still enjoyed our bath time routine in the evening. He was still small enough to lay on the changing pad, but I had to find diapers larger than the overnights he had been using. We tried some pullup style, but after he had leaked during the night in one of them, he refused to wear any kind of pullups any more. It had to be either cloth like at his mom’s house or real diapers, you know, tape diapers.
I still didn’t want to use cloth diapers. Even if you can get some where you have a disposable liner that you can throw away. It still meant more to wash, and my washing machine did not run every day. I had to pay some extra money to make the move from toddler diapers to youth diapers. But it really wasn’t so bad. Like a buck per night. The new diapers didn’t have the cute images on them, but like I’ve said earlier, Andy didn’t care about looks, he cared about the function.
And he was happy with the new diapers. They fit much better and felt dry even when he woke up in the mornings. Which made me happy, as he didn’t immediately upon rousing come running to me demanding to get cleaned up. But I was still worried about other kids finding out about his bedwetting. As it turned out I really ought to be worrying about other things.
But, school started and all of us soon settled into the new routines that followed. Andy usually was full of stories of things he had learned in school that day, when I picked him up from the afterschool care center. Or what xx or yy had done (Put in any name substituting xx and yy yourself, they were 22 kids in his class and I couldn’t keep up with who was who really). He was happy and so was John. They still hung out together all the time they could.
I’m fairly sure they still played with each other sexually, but I wasn’t invited. Ever since that time with John swallowing my sperm like it was milk and only afterwards asking what it was, sex with the boys was on a standstill. I could only live high on the sex I had with Michelle for so long. So I was back to searching for young guys on the Internet. Mostly my searching ended up only looking at profiles and pictures, I’d send the interesting ones messages.
Most of the messages would go unanswered, some of the teens and early twenties guys would check out my profile, but just leave me hanging. A few would send me a reply, mostly saying I was too old. One or two seemed interesting and we started writing back and forth, but when the time came for meeting in real life, they’d never turn up. When I started thinking I’d forever be doomed to play with myself, I got a message from someone I didn’t remember writing to.
‘Are you one of those guys who meet?’ it simply asked.
Without checking the profile written by the guy sending me that message I sent an answer.
‘Yes, it happens, but not nearly often enough.’
A few minutes went by. Then he wrote back.
‘Will you meet me today?’
That day, when I had logged onto the site, the largest dating site for GLBT people in Denmark, I didn’t expect or hope to find anyone to write with and certainly not to hook up with. Not the very same day or night either. Andy was at Michelle’s and it was late afternoon. Before I wrote a reply I had a look at his profile to see what he had wrote about himself. It didn’t say much really. He had chosen a fairly obscure username and his profile text was this:
Boy, 15 years old, looking for hookups and fun. Virgin.
That was it.
The site required you to put in a username, age, sex, location, body built and what you were looking for. It also had an option of validating your information based on either your social security number or cellphone. Of course, neither of those numbers used for validating were available for users of the site. He had listed his age as 15 years, as he had written in the profile text too. He had just put in the name of the county as location. But it was the same I lived in. Body built was listed as heavy.
Most people who chose that built type was, politically correct real troubled by gravity and a slow metabolism. Not so politically correct, basically obese or fat. But hey, he was a boy! Age of consent in Denmark is 15 years, and he was 15. So I quickly wrote back to him.
‘Yes, I want to meet you. Where do you want me to pick you up and what do you want to do?’
‘I’m not sure, never had sex, just want something that’s good. Do you know the Aldi supermarket in Haslev?’
‘Yeah, I know that supermarket. I can be there in an hour.’
‘Cool. What car do you drive?’
I told him the color, make and model of my car, and quickly went to have a shower and rinsed out my rectum. Hey, you never know what something like that might end up in. The supermarket was about half an hour’s drive from my home, so I didn’t have too much time to linger about in. I grabbed a towel, lube and condoms and put them in a carrier bag. I got to the parking lot of the Aldi market a couple of minutes early.
As I waited, I had a look around from inside the car. It was close to 6 PM, so there weren’t many out for shopping. Most people were probably either having dinner or getting ready for it. I couldn’t see any fat 15 years old boys on their own. In fact, there were no lone kids or teens, period. I decided to wait for fifteen minutes before I’d head on home, cussing at myself for letting yet another bastard trick me into wasting both time and money on gas.
Then I happened to look in the rearview mirror. I saw a kid with a blonde crew cut. But surely, that couldn’t be him, he looked much younger to me than 15. Besides, he didn’t look fat at all, just a bit heavy set. So I ignored him and kept looking for the teen I was expecting. My heart skipped a beat or two when suddenly the passenger door opened and the kid I had seen in the mirror plopped himself into the car seat next to me.
“Hi,” he chirped. Yes, chirped, his voice hadn’t even broken yet. But he buckled himself in and I thought it best to start the car and just get the heck out of that parking lot before someone who knew me, or worse the kid, noticed him in my car.
“Hey there, uh, what’s your name?” I asked as I maneuvered the car out of the lot.
“I’m Anthony, and you’re Teddy, right?” he said in that high prepubescent voice of his.
‘Damn, you’d be able to sing in a boys’ choir,’ I thought. Well, with the proper training of course.
I nodded at him, while trying to think of a place where no one would be and still within a reasonable distance.
“So, you never had sex?” I asked him.
“No, but I’ve been wanting to for years. Now is the time,” he said with a little tremor in his voice.
“Are you nervous?”
“A little, but really excited too.”
“Don’t worry dude, we’ll only do the things you want. If we do anything you decide you don’t like, just say so and we’ll find something else to do. Okay?”
“Right. Where are we going?”
“There’s a small forest nearby, I think we can be alone there,” I explained.
“Oh you mean the one over there?” he asked and pointed towards the north-east.
He told me that he knew a few places where nobody ever really went and one of the places was inside that forest. So he acted as navigator for the short drive to the forest and directed me up a forest road. No, that would be giving that track way too much credit to call it a road. I was happy it hadn’t rained for some time, otherwise I would’ve needed a four wheel drive car and not the rear wheel drive Volvo estate that hardly had any grip on the rear wheels.
It was really just two parallel strips of dirt with semi high growth of grass and weeds growing in the middle. Looking back I was lucky there weren’t any big stones in the middle of the track, as I really wouldn’t have been able to tell until I ran into it. We made it up this rather steep but short slope and saw a small lay by. This track was probably used by foresters when they cut down trees and whatnot. But at the time there were only myself and my new wanted-to-be-15-but-more-likely-was-12 friend, Anthony.
I got out of the car and quickly put the backseats down, making for a 2 meters long and about 1.2 meters wide space. Anthony left his shoes outside the car before he climbed in through the door and got somewhat comfortable. I joined him and before I got to do much, Anthony launched himself onto me and immediately started to kiss me. Aggressively, too. He really pushed his lips towards mine with no regards to being careful.
I let him have his way with me for a few minutes until my lips hurt too much. I had to grab his head and force him to back off just a little. I didn’t want to end the kiss, I just wanted to kiss a little more tenderly. I guess he just was truly horny. I mean, who wouldn’t be if they had wanted sex for years and then finally was able to have it? When he seemed to grasp that kissing wasn’t a matter of grinding lips against teeth, I let my hands wander down his body.
He had on a hoodie sweatshirt, with nothing underneath it. Just his little potbelly so enjoyably hairless. I could feel his boner inside his jeans and when I finally got access to it I knew he couldn’t be fifteen. If I had ever had any doubts since I first saw him the rearview mirror. His erect dick couldn’t have been more than 10 cm or 4” long and still really slim. His pubes had only recently started growing and were downy soft. So he was a boy only recently started puberty, not halfway through as most 15 years olds would be.
The boy lover in me was thrilled. This boy knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid of showing it. He wasn’t holding back neither in action nor sound. He moaned into my mouth as I rubbed his dick and petted his still hairless ball sack while French kissing him. Suddenly he froze.
“There’s someone coming!” he alerted me.
‘OH FUCK!’ I thought.
“Lay down as flat as you can,” I told him.
I had a look out the back window, and he was right. There was indeed someone coming closer. There were two of them, one on top of the other. The latter had four legs, and the first only two. I don’t know how old the woman on the horse was, but she passed my car without stopping.
‘Thank you God for the invention of tinted windows,’ I thought.
I had spent the better part of a day carefully putting silvery window film on the rear windows, making it quite hard for anyone to look in from the outside. But the windshield and the windows in the front doors weren’t tinted due to the law here. So if that lady had looked over her shoulder and into the car, she would have seen a man with flushing cheeks and a boy with his pants down in the back of the car. I don’t know why she didn’t.
I certainly would have been curious as to why a car would be parked there. With a pair of sneakers size 7½ sitting on the ground at one of the rear doors. When the horse and its rider was out of sight, I asked Anthony to put his shoes inside the car. He had left them outside so not to mess up the upholstery!
“That’s very considerate of you, but this car is old. And with my son messing it up all the time, you don’t need to worry about a thing.” I told him.
“You have a son?”
“Yeah, he’s six.”
With that said, I leaned over him and took his dick in my mouth. It tasted a bit of soap, which really is a crime against man, at least against the man who has to suck on it. I got it wet with spittle then used the towel to wipe it off. It got rid of most of the disgusting flavor. I mean, if I had wanted that taste, I could have just sucked on a bar of soap right? But I got back on it, sucking his dick while he tenderly stroked my hair. When he came, I thought he had fired blanks at first.
“Oh heck that tickled like crazy at the end,” Anthony said and stroked his dick a little, adding excitedly “is that sperm?”
A small drop of clear fluid had amassed at his pee slit. Instead of just saying yes, I licked it into my mouth.
“Yeah, that’s sperm,” I smiled at him. Well, seminal fluid really, I doubt there were any sperm cells in it. But a little white lie was better than to explain what it really was to him. He laughed at me for having a taste of it. He was still horny and wanted to make me cum too. His dick didn’t lose any of its firmness as I pulled down my pants and boxer briefs.
He started wanking my dick and I could tell he was trying to decide whether or not he wanted to put it in his mouth.
“You don’t have to suck it, if you don’t want to.”
I guess that was all the reassurance he needed as he dived onto my dick like a calf nursing on its mother. It wasn’t the best blowjob, I had gotten, but he did pretty well considering it was his first time. With some guidance he managed to get me off. He didn’t want my sperm in his mouth, which reminded me so much of Andy. He jacked me off the rest of the way, but that was okay with me. I just used the towel to wipe off the mess afterwards.
When I reached the location, at which he wanted me to drop him off, he kissed me again. I mean, really kissed me. I was getting a little worried that he might want to do more stuff, as it wasn’t really safe where we were. It was in a little enclosed parking lot, but anyone could have walked by and seen us clearly. After about five minutes he pulled back and thanked me. He left the car and as he got about ten feet away he turned and waved before resuming his walk.
When I got home, he was online on the website. There was a message waiting for me.
‘Thank you Teddy. I had one hell of a time. I’m just afraid you won’t want to see me again. :’(‘
‘Hi Anthony. I really enjoyed it too. Why wouldn’t I see you again, you’re a great kid :-)’
‘Well, you see I’m only 13, not 15. Sorry for lying to you.’
‘I knew you weren’t 15 when you got into my car. I don’t mind. As long as it stays between you and me.’
He promised to keep it a secret, then gave me his messenger ID and actually deleted his profile on the website. As he told me, he had found what he was searching for, there was no reason for having a profile anymore. I wish I could say I deleted my profile as well. It would have made my life much simpler later on. But, we started chatting on messenger, pretty much every day, mostly in the late evenings after Andy had been put to bed.
Well, uh, we didn’t exactly keep it to just chatting, I had cybersex with Anthony too. It was after all much more rewarding to jerk off with him than it was to just wank while watching movie clips of two guys fucking each other.