Date: Thu, 29 Oct 2009 02:58:01 +0100 From: auroratopper@gmx.us Subject: Juan and Matt pt 3 Juan exited the bathroom and I reached down for his little hand to walk him back through the perilous church basement and up the steep stairs to the Mass above. The ceiling vibrated above us as the bass of the organ rattled the old Catholic church to the core. My dick was still rock hard. Luckily it was trapped in a tight pair of briefs. There was precum oozing out the tip of my shaft. I was desperate for Juan to taste it. A little leche for the growing boy. Makes your bones big and strong! Or something like that. He let go of my hand and started hopping up the steps one by one making silly noises as he leapt. "Juan!" I very loudly whispered. "Keep it down kid, they're praying upstairs." He stopped and turned around and flashed an evil grin. The nine year old boy sat down on the top step waiting for me to reach him. I sat down next to him for a second, catching my breath at the peak. "Matt, I wish you were my papi." I shrugged my shoulders and looked blank. "Why?" I asked a dumb question. "Because I would love to make you feel happy." Whoa. How old was he again? He continued. "Sometimes my papi likes to take me shopping with him. He gives mami the day off and just me and him go for a ride in his convertible. He puts the top down and Matt," he slowed down a bit. "My papi tells me to crawl over to his side of the car under the steering wheel and make him feel happy." Huh? My surprise and arousal were simultaneous. "And I do Matt. I do make his thingy shoot juice. He feels really happy. And I want you to be really happy and I know how to do that to you!" Whoa. I didn't say anything, but he hopped in my lap and placed both of his little smooth brown boy hands lengthwise on my pounding 30 year old cock through the khakis. He rubbed back and forth like a little jackhammer for a few seconds, then stopped. "Oh." He stammered and pulled himself off of me. "I'm not supposed to do this anymore Matt. Mom said I can't anymore." Was this how Mr. Raul fit into the picture? Or was it his own father pounding not just his knocked up Latina wife but also his youngest pre-pubescent son? "It's ok Juan." I tried to calm him down a little bit. He was visibly upset with himself and turned away from me. "Sometimes when you see a person, it can be any person. Young or old. Black or brown or white. Boy or girl, man or woman. You want to make that person feel happy. And you don't know why. You just do. And I'm glad you want to make me feel that way." He smiled and hugged me quickly then opened the door to the loud blasts of an organ wailing for a better song and darted back to his mother in the pews. I took the opportunity to leave church before anyone noticed I was ever there. Besides I had to plan my next move on a boy who was obviously very interested in making me feel like his man.