Date: Thu, 12 Jan 2017 00:55:08 +0000 (UTC) From: Julian Otero Subject: You Can...If You Want part 5 You Can....If You Want part 5 Let me know if you like this part. I will answer and am glad to exchange thoughts. Julian, ba9ba9goodman@yahoo.com Please put the story title in the subject line And please contribute to nifty so this great archive can continue. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.htm You Can....If You Want part 5 Adam, father, 32 Allen, younger brother of Adam, 30 Ethan, age 10, son of Adam Duane, Ethan's friend, age 10 The first picture shows Duane with his dick deep into my son's ass. Ethan's on his back, knees up near his ears. Both kids are smiling cutely at the camera, their expressions seeming to say, "you'd like to be doing this, wouldn't you?" The kids sucking, fucking, kissing: a lot of images like this. Other folders: my brother with the boys. Ethan is ten now and Duane just weeks away from double digit age. Both of them, eyes toward the camera, are licking Allen's six incher obviously enjoying the taste while being photographed. In all this what comes across is two happy boys greedy for sexual pleasure. Four sets, 96 photos so far. We borrowed a beautiful location a Victorian townhouse lent by a pedophile prominent in government away in Paris attending a conference enjoying, as a side benefit, French boys as young as seven. His hospitality he gets compensated with free copies. They will fetch top notch dollars due to top notch artistic quality. I also posed both boys in black above-the-knee spandex shorts with lots of time devoted to lighting, highlighting what was covered so you could perv on them for hours. There something very hot when two pre-teen boys kiss. With two sessions of posing experience behind them now pretty confortable with each other before a camera they pretty much took over this session not needing much direction from me. Sweet to see one's face in the other's groin, or nose pressed into the ass of the other. I jerked off openly as testimony to the beauty of it all. After meeting the boy and his parents on our tropical vacation and making many legal arrangements with his parents I launched Duane into a very promising modeling career. At the moment he appears in Christmas catalogues from a very famous clothing retailer, sometimes alone or with other children including my son, or with his professional mother and father. The eyes of thousands of mother's that glace over his body on the printed page hardly suspect how much boy and man cock the kid has had in his mouth and up his ass. All they see is how well the cloths fit, substituting their own son for the boy in the catalogue. Mr. Hopkins, Duane's father, nicked named `Hop,' a man with a great perverted imagination, viewed the world with jaded eyes. After his son's second trip to my studio he invited me for drinks at his club. Innuendo followed innuendo, followed by hints and indirect language by which we established I did indeed indulge in "that kind" of photography, and he took great satisfaction in the discovery. Before we parted he casually remarked, "If you do any of my son, let me know...I'd love to see them." Wink and smile. A shiver went through me as I walked away, thinking "Shit! We're everywhere!" That first porn shoot went smoothly. First just Duane, then Duane and my son in my studio with a plain generic background. He was to stay over with me that night and would meet his father next day. That was the evening I had the boy for the first time. "Sir, would you please suck my toes first?" Not such an unusual request from an adult, but remarkable from a ten year old boy. Like peeling away layers of a onion Duane gradually permitted me to discovery aspects of his sexual experience. Most of it was with his father, some with his mother. She knew what father and son were doing with each other. What fortune for me to stumble into a professional and personal relations with this family! Some of this good fortune was to sink my cock ever so slowly into the deep warm clef of a young black boy! What an experience that is! Patiently I waited for the right time, the right mood. Something in his demeanor told me courting him wouldn't require a long and complicated effort. So it happened we came to that point with him pants down bent over my bed, my white hard cock against his brown ass. "Are you ready?" I whispered into Duane's ear and asked. "Is this how your father's does it?" "He likes me on my back sir, ... I put my legs up for him. But I like this way better...So does Ethan. You're the only grown-up beside my dad to do sex with me." The boy was warm, aroused, breathing soft and shallow anticipating what was about to happen. He needn't worry. It all went so well, so beautifully well. My son's name spoken from his sensual lips created a thrill I felt at the base of my cock. Then Duane became a bobble head toy the way he nodded when I asked, "Do you like it, you like doing this?" Of course I already knew, but I needed to know more. His back story "How many times you do it with your father?" Three of my fingertips were in his ass crack sampling the humid temperature, imagining his father's hardness there. "Bunch...oh...aahh...I like...I like the way...you know: how it feels." "How it feels? Where?" "In my ass." "How old were you, first time?" "Seven." Three years of daddy sex. It really was "a bunch." "And Ethan?" How many times have you fucked that little monkey of mine?" The little money was over at his uncle's that night, my arrangement. Sodomy was also taking place there I had no doubt. Gently I turned Duane over, kissed his shoulders and licked his shoulder blades. He giggled, and I made note of the ticklish spot. His skin all over was satin on my tongue: under his arms, under his hairless tight balls, skin the same smooth color of a hazel nut. Soon the kid's breathing got heavier knowing what was next: I lifted him to me, opened his cheeks with my thumbs, introducing my cock head to his anus, and held it there. "Tell me how many times." "A bunch of times...don't hurt me, sir." I liked that respectful word "sir." The sound of `sir' from his dirty little lips affected my libido as if sparked by an electric jolt. It made me feel like his master. I pushed more. "Please...you're bigger than my dad." I acknowledged that with a satisfied grunt. My second thrust opened him a little more. "Please...I like doing it, but not if it hurts..." How I wanted to shove! To violate his trust and make him scream. That was a part of me I tried to keep under control, always. "I won't hurt you honey...I've done it to Ethan many times. He likes it...I've never hurt him" Still, with the boy pinned under me I shoved in a little more, made him squeal. The squeal became a grunt, a lovely sound from a young boy. "Do you like fucking my son, Duane? ... Tell me...Tell me about it, say how his ass feels around your cute dick! You know Duane, he's a little whore ...You like fucking a little whore? How would you like your father to fuck him? Even both of you: your cock in his mouth and you daddy's dick up his tight ass...!" I had trouble controlling myself. Here I was fucking the boy that fucks my son for over a year. I wanted to force my way into his hole. Not rape, just...just what? "Feels ...Oh, ow... uggh! wait!...let me get used to it!" "Ethan likes cock...I think he's a little faggot already...His uncle fucks him, too, you know that?" This dirty talk was my way of savoring my arousal not that anything was lacking in the boy under me. I was dating hot 32 year old pussy I'd met, but in bed she barely moved the fuck meter. This kid did, big time. Pedophilia had a new bright appeal making my dick super hard. We had plenty of time and I went slowly. "You like fucking my little faggot boy?" I asked Duane. "your father said we could take pictures. Pictures with Ethan's dick up your ass. My dick in your mouth. My brother licking your hot faggot ass. You want that? "Please stop Mr. Wilson...I have to stop...I'll do a blow job...I can't get take it today. Please sir!" He begged so sweetly I relented. I flipped onto my back. Duane was on me instantly even though I was sure he could smell his own ass on me. But eventually we got around to what I wanted. Slowly sinking my cock into that boy's father-fucked anus was more pleasurable than I can easily describe. The beautiful brown high round mounds created a deep vestibule through which I sank before meeting the hot and tight golden target. Passing through there required no negotiation: this boy's pussy had been penetrated many times by his daddy. I found it hot that my cock in the same passage as the little boy's father. And then there was the kid's softly spoken verbalizations, the cooing and murmuring, releasing his obvious sexual pleasure. It recalled the times with my brother. When I began to shove hard and called him a little fairy whore, his sweet words got peppered with "bitch...cock pussy...rape". Language like that from the mouth of a boy not old enough sperm was, I learned later, coaxed by his father. The effect on me certainly was stimulating. Sweet it was to sodomize a near pubescent youngster other than my son. Though I would deny it for awhile, I was acquiring a taste for boys of tender age. All the young ones I had screwed up `til then had been older teenagers. Now what my libido craved going forward seemed to be true pedophilia. Question: Is fucking a black boy different from fucking a while boy? Granted, Duane was only half black, but black enough to make some comparison. Answer: the difference is in the details. Both are sweet and eager and get hot easily, both do provide tremendous satisfaction. Compared to my son, Duane's smell is more spicy, gently so. Sort a like graham crackers. His dick and balls taste a bit more pungent as a result. And licking his ass was a delight once you worked your way down that deep ravine to his receptive boypussy. Duane's lips were larger than Ethan's so could clamp onto my own lips more strongly, or suck my cock with a fuller grip. So wonderful. Without disparaging my son in anyway I was a little envious of the boy's father for having this little catamite at home ready to diddle at night--or whenever. Pornography: It was watching little Duane's brown body huff and puff over my son's smooth white body, watching his hard chocolate colored rod go in and out again and again over Ethan's small firm ass, listening to them both grunt like piglets, it was that that finally convinced me to make the move into boy porn. The beauty of eager young boys fucking each other was too much to keep to myself: those scenes needed sharing with the world and even brought in a bunch of cash too. postscript Five or six days after first screwing Duane I got a call his father. He was angry, infuriated, mad as hell, and my asshole got very tight. "Who gave you permission to put your dick up my son's ass?!!" Hopkins shouted. "What are you, some kind of pervert?!!" I stumbled and stammered, could think of nothing to say. From my throat the only sound was a weak whimper. "You really fucked up this time buddy boy" was the only thought my terrified brain could form. There's no way out of this. Jailbird. "I, well, it..." I sniveled. Then came a softer, intimate tone over the phone: "How'd you like it? Was it good?" He had to repeat the question several times, his voice becoming more mellow each time. Me, in a tiny whisper voice: "Yes... yeah, it was... it was...good...very good. Yes, it was." "I thought you'd like him...! Sonavabitch!" A long pause. "I gotta go. Let's get together soon. And bring the goddam pictures!" -0- Let me know if you like this part. I will answer and am glad to exchange thoughts. Julian, ba9ba9goodman@yahoo.com Please put the story title in the subject line And please contribute to nifty so this great archive can continue. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.htm