Date: Sun, 25 May 2008 12:23:35 -0700 (PDT)
From: Charles Rascal <charles.rascal@yahoo.com>
Subject: Henry - Part Two

"Henry," I said, wiping some of his cum off my chin and sticking my wet
finger in his mouth, "taste some of your good boy jizz." He sucked hard on
my finger, enjoying the usual back-and-forth after I'd serviced his long,
beautiful 11-year-old black cock. "I've given you at least two dozen blow
jobs by now, right?"

He nodded, with a big grin. "Well, then, it's time you learned about
rimming." He looked slightly puzzled. "Rimming. Remember, I told you about
it. You know, we watched that video I made of Deondre and me when I had my
face in his ass."

"Oh, that!" He whistled. "Oh, wow, Daddy. Rimming! Oh, yes, oh, yes,
please! Oh, yes, Daddy, rim me! Now?"

I laughed and shook my head no. He pouted slightly. Having sucked him off
twice and beaten off while I was doing it both times, I decided to have a
bit of a rest, even for horny ol' me, and made him promise to come down the
next day for his first rimming. I didn't finish my sentence before he
assured me he would be at my home on time.

So, the next day, immediately after he arrived, since my wife was still at
work, I took him in my arms and we exchanged a nice, long kiss, something
he seemed to enjoy the more and more we did it. He was very adept at using
his tongue and I was eager to find out what else he might be willing to do
with it for me and for others, but it was great fun for me to tease myself,
ever so slowly moving in the direction of more and varied sexual
experiences with this little, big-cocked boy.

My first task was to get him naked, which was easy, as he always began
shedding clothes as soon as he knew we were alone.. This was possibly the
horniest little black boy of my whole collection. And he definitely had
some competition. But Henry was like me in that he had a hard-on 24/7. He
never showed up at my door without a big bulge in his shorts or his
jeans. He smiled shyly when I would take the expected glance downwards and
mouth "damn" in case my wife was nearby. He would bite his lip to keep from
laughing. He also knew, even if he had shown up with the limpest cock in
town, that it would be in my mouth in a matter of minutes, anyway. Black
cock, especially pre-teen black cock, is the best dessert. Maybe that's
where Death by Chocolate came from - it's true that I almost died from the
joy of tasting this chocolate boy's big cock and taking his cum, sort of
moving it around my mouth, then swallowing it, savoring it as long as I
could, even though I
 knew, with this horny little kid, I could have another load in a few
minutes' time.

As soon as we could get to some job I'd dreamed up in the basement or run
to the hardware store in the van with the bed in the back - the best! - or
take the wheelbarrow and some tools to that part of the backyard that was
shielded both from the neighbors and from anyone looking from inside the
house, a part of the yard that got much more than its share of attention -
I would be watching him unzip his pants or pulling them down, standing
there, his hard cock sticking straight at me, expectantly waiting, almost
twitching with horny impatience, while I dropped to my knees and began
giving him a tongue bath all over his groin, deliberately avoiding his cock
until he whispered, "Oh, Daddy, please. Please. Don't tease me
today. Please suck me." And, of course, I would, holding it in one hand
while I worked on the big head, pushing his foreskin back with my lips and
eating the pre-cum that was almost spilling out of his cock.

"Oh!" he cried, over and over again, holding on to the back of my head, and
pushing me down on it, as if I needed guidance or encouragement. Soon, in
spite of me trying to make his blow job continue, his first load would pump
into my mouth, shooting several times while he panted and said, almost in
tears, "Oh, Daddy, so good. So good!"

And now it was time to move from his groin to his ass, working my way
slowly, lovingly, with my tongue, my lips, and my fingers, giving him
pleasure that made him tense up, beads of sweat forming all over his nude
body, the smell of sex strong in the air as he began perspiring, especially
between his legs and his groin, the area I found the tastiest of his whole
tasty body. My wife was gone for the whole afternoon, so I took him to the
guest room, with its queen-sized bed and had him lie, nude, at the corner
so I could get on my knees on the floor in front of him, in a state of
worship. He lay on his stomach, his long smooth dark legs draped down the
sides of the corner, to the floor, his ass ready for the taking.

As I always did the first time with little boys getting a rim job, I gently
slid a couple of pillows under him, so that his cock was tucked carefully,
facing towards his head, on the pillow, his balls exposed to the rear,
protruding out, nice and round and firm from being pushed against the
pillow, forcing them out behind him. His ass was propped up and his legs as
far apart as was comfortable, so that his crack was beginning to open, but
he was very comfortable. I didn't want my boys to feel any discomfort. He
was tall enough for his feet to touch the floor. I was on another pillow,
on the hard floor, very close to him.

I first sat up on my knees and just looked at the sight in front of
me. God, I almost came from the beauty of it. I took some pictures, of
course, ones I would label, "Henry's ass just before his first rimming,"
and date them and put them in the photo album hidden on on my computer that
my wife didn't even know I had, locked in a storage cabinet (but plugged in
to an outlet on the back) in the basement office.

Henry's skin was incredibly smooth. His balls were beautiful, not too
large, but respectably big for a boy who was barely eleven years old. His
ass was one of his many fine attributes. I had emailed pictures of it to
some of my buddies and I was told those photos alone caused them to
practically ruin their keyboards with the amount of cum they whacked out of
their white cocks. I promised them that, some day soon, they would have the
opportunity to lick and eat that ass, but obviously I was going to be the
first to taste it and enjoy it. I had the tape recorder going, as I always
did for this ritual, so I could have the sounds of a boy's reaction to his
first rimming. Those moans and gasps were some of the sweetest sounds in
the world, better even than their first fucks or first blow jobs. No, first
rimmings were such a special treat.

Boys, when told about rimming, would often not believe me. Oh, they knew
something about fucking and cock sucking and masturbating, from a great
deal (masturbating) to some correct and some incorrect information
(fucking), but rimming was unheard of, and when they were told about it, it
was seen as something dirty and definitely taboo. Perhaps that's why I
enjoyed serving them so much.. The idea of breaking a sexual taboo with a
boy of eleven years, especially a white man doing something naughty to a
very young black boy, was so wonderfully erotic. And, naturally, every
single one of my boys loved to be rimmed and begged for it as much as they
begged to be sucked or to suck me or to be fucked. It became a regular part
of our sex act and one that never, ever failed to elicit the loudest, most
souful noises. That was why, even though I knew I could blow or fuck a boy
up in the attic or in the basement when my wife was home, rimming was just
too noisy. Even
 in the safe part of the yard I wouldn't do it for fear of the curiosity
the loud moans and cries of "Daddy! Oh, fuck yeah, Daddy!" would cause
among neighbors or my wife who might happen to be in the nearby garden.

After I put the camera down, I ran my fingers of both hands lightly over
his upper legs and then over his buttocks, beginning the ritual of teasing
and taunting him in the most maddening way so that his body was crying for
relief. Instead, I went from light finger touches to my hands barely
touching his skin, up and down the area. I took one finger and ran it up
and down his crack, not at all penetrating him, but giving him a feeling of
anticipation at the very edge of that part of his body.

I always made my boys do two things before they could come visit me: They
had to wash off their deodorant, as I loved to suck hard on the skin of
their armpits, whether hairy or smooth, and I made them scrub their asses
then work as hard to remove any taste of soap. But they also had strict
orders not to wash their groin. That, I wanted as funky and musky as
possible, and that's why they had gone from boxers to boxer briefs and
briefs and jock straps in order to capture and hold the sweaty odor that we
all have in our groins, but that boys seem to have at an even greater
degree.

No, I ate a clean ass, but I ate it so long and so eagerly and so
vigorously, that sweat seemed to pour out of their skin, so I got to taste
the unbelievable flavor of their butts, the smell of sex so strong that I
had to scrub my face with lots of soap, brush my teeth, and spray on a hint
of cologne afterward to keep the smell of ass from my breath and skin.

Henry was beginning to breathe more deeply. I had given him the general
gist of what was going to happen but, of course, he had to experience my
tongue to know what it was really like. I leaned in and licked his balls. I
knew he preferred to have them treated very gently. Every boy was
different. Some wanted them only to be carefully touched. Others were less
sensitive and enjoyed having them sucked. Still others wanted them sucked
and pulled on, roughly, sucking down hard on them while they gave me
head. But Henry was one of the gentle boys, so I was careful to kiss them
and lick them and only lightly sucked them, then I moved to the space
behind them leading to his ass and licked it up and down and he cried out
loud. "Oh!" and then I sucked on that wonderfully tender skin and he cried
even louder, "Oh! Oh! Daddy!"

I spent some time working on that area, hearing him cry out with the pure
joy of it, the wonder of having that part of his body serviced and how
incredible it felt. I could suck hard on it, knowing it would feel good and
that it wouldn't be painful at all, but just a wonderful array of
over-the-top feelings. It had to amaze him that that part of his body would
be "sexual" at all, and here it was one of the most tender, most
breathtaking, literally, of his whole body. Henry was quickly learning that
his cock was on a list of wonderful places on his body -- and I was just
beginning to demonstrate that list! -- and not the only place where he
would feel gut-wrenching, sweat-producing gasps of pure lust.  (And, we had
not even discussed, let alone tried, his sucking and eating me - definitely
on my agenda, but a sub-list that would come along later after I'd licked
and sucked and kissed his entire body, and I mean his entire body.)

Finally, I moved further back to his butt itself and licked up and down his
crack. "Ooooohh," he said, not loudly, but loud enough that that was one of
the first sounds on the Henry Rim Tape that got filed as an audio clip on
the computer to go along with the stills of his ass. "Oooohhh!" he said a
bit louder as I licked it again, letting my tongue go in between the crack,
just a little bit.

It was, in a way an S&M exercise, as I taunted him, tortured him, made him
the willing masochist as I sadistically refused to rush in and make it all
happen. Oh, no, this boy would never forget this day of blessed torture.

Now, as I continued to lick along his crack, I used both hands to slowly
open his cheeks, allowing me to lick deeper into his ass. I began to suck
on the skin, along the sides, but especially straight ahead of me, sucking,
then moving on, then sucking, then moving on, then licking all the way up
and down. Then I concentrated on the sucking which was always the best for
the little boys and what I enjoyed the most, too.

Henry, as I expected, was gripping the bedspread with both hands, as if he
were holding on and afraid of falling off. But he was gripping it out of
the tenseness in his body as I held his cheeks as far apart as they would
go and sucked firmly, harder and harder, on his hole and on the skin above
and below it, sucking on one place for several times, then moving only a
little and sucking hard again. I would take a suck break, lick him,
tonguing his rapidly like a snake flitting its tongue, then go back to
sucking.

He cried out, "Daddy, I'm cumming! Oh fuck, I'm cumming" and I was inspired
to suck even more, even harder, as he jerked as the cum came out, no doubt
soaking the pillow and the bedspread. He was sweating a great deal and I
could feel the dampness of his buttocks and his lower back and his legs. He
was moaning, now non-stop, sort of a moan one might hear if one were trying
to hum a song. The moan would be interrupted with an "Oh!" and then he
would continue moaning.

Minutes later, he cried out, "Daddy! I'm cumming again. Fuck! Fuck! Oh,
Daddy, this is so good. I love you - oh, god, I'm shooting, Daddy!"

Finally, I stopped, sat up, wiped my mouth with his briefs, turned him over
and began licking off what cum was still on his body. His black skin shone
in the morning light and tears came out of his eyes and ran down the sides
of his face. I spread his legs apart so as not to miss any wayward cum and
to get a taste of the copious sweat between his legs and his groin. The
smell was so strong I thought I would swoon, but I was way too busy licking
it up, replacing his wet sweat with my wet saliva, keeping his skin shiny
and damp. After I had spent a long time licking and sucking a wide area
between his knees and his navel, getting all that I could manage, I wiped
him off with my briefs.

I began softly kissing his legs and his cock, holding it gently in my
hand. "Daddy," Henry said. "Daddy, that was so wonderful. I never dreamed
that it would be so wonderful!"

He sat up and took me in his arms. The tears began to flow and ran down his
cheeks. Then he sobbed. I could barely understand him, but he said, close
to my ear, "You are wonderful to me. You love me. You are good to
me. Daddy, I love you."

Tears came to my eyes, too, and I held him in my arms, softly running my
hands up and down his back, then we lay back, snuggled up against one
another. I pulled the covers up over us and we lay together, with him
cradled in my long, strong, hairy arms, this very young slender black boy.

I knew we would nap. We were both tired. But, the best of all? When we woke
up, he would still be there. He wasn't a dream. He was real and he was my
own boy to pleasure, over and over and over again, and it would only get
better and hotter as the days and months went on.