Date: Sat, 19 Feb 2022 21:18:36 +0000 From: Jane Smith Subject: Count Your Blessings - Chapter 4 You can contact me at allseeingpigeon@outlook.com (I read every email, though I don't always have time to respond) or on Wickr as allseeingpigeon. Feedback and comments are always welcomed, however please do not send me photos without asking first. This story is fantasy and has no basis in reality. Nifty is a vast, invaluable resource, so why not make a financial contribution at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ? ~&~ The months went by. Our pre-bedtime playtime with Tristan continued; every night, he'd crawl into bed with us and either practise sucking my cock or drilling his tongue into Lilah's pussy. He seemed to enjoy each equally. We worked on him taking more of my cock in his mouth, although by the time his tenth birthday rolled around he still couldn't take more than half. But I absolutely loved watching him try; I loved the feel of his hot, tight mouth stretched around my shaft. The end of my dick pressed against the top of his throat, and it took everything I had not to just snap my hips forward and choke him. I wanted it so badly. The way his lips stretched tight, the way his eyes sometimes watered... it was damned near the hottest thing I'd ever seen. And when I came, each spurt shot straight down his throat. He often did choke then, spluttering and pulling back, so that the last dribbles splashed over his face. I loved seeing my little boy's face covered in cum. "He'll be 10 soon," I said to Lilah one evening after she'd stroked his dicklet to a trembling dry cum, then watched him toddle off to bed. "I want him, babe. Soon." Her hand closed on my balls. Not squeezing, not yet, but threatening. "Didn't your mother ever teach you that `I want doesn't get'?" she asked mildly. Her nails grazed my skin. I shuddered. I retaliated by pinching her nipple. "Not even if I say `Pretty please can I fuck my son?'" She squeezed my balls. Hard. I yelped and instinctively tried to scoot back, then got myself under control, breathing deeply until she let go. The pain was intense... but my dick was hard and twitching. "I told you," Lilah said, "you have to wait until he's 11. He can't even take all of your cock in his mouth yet." Her hand suddenly wrapped around my shaft, giving it a few quick, rough jerks. I gasped and reached for her, but she batted me away with her free hand. "We've got time to prepare him. Get him used to taking our fingers. Try him on the littlest buttplugs. Teach him about enemas." Fuck, yeah. The idea of fingering his ass was a massive turn on. And Lilah -- my beautiful, deviant wife -- knew that. ~&~ "So when people fuck each other in the ass," I said to Tristan a few days after his tenth birthday, "sometimes they use their tongues and fingers as well as cocks and dildos and strap-ons. But that means you have to keep your asshole clean." "But I already do!" he replied, with all the indignation of a little kid trying to act like an adult. "I know you do." I chucked his chin. "But an enema is a deep clean, inside you. Basically, you squirt water up your ass and push until it comes out clean." "Ew." He wrinkled his nose. It was adorable. "You'll get used to it. It can feel really good." "Can we do it now?" he asked hopefully. "Sure. Go take your clothes off, grab a towel, and lay down on our bed." He was off like a shot. I chuckled and followed him into the bedroom, gathering my equipment from a drawer. He was already half naked. I made a quick side trip to the bathroom to fill up the bag, then returned. A now completely naked Tristan had settled back against the pillows, his slender legs spread, lightly fisting his little dick. "I have to put this tube," I said, holding up the slim nozzle, "in your ass. It will need to go pretty deep but I'll use lots of lube and take it slow. OK?" "OK, Dad. I trust you." My cock lurched. Sweet boy. He didn't know that I wanted to flip him over and force my cock inside him until he screamed. I just had to be patient. Still fully dressed, I climbed up on the bed and knelt between his spread legs. "Hold your cheeks apart." He reached down, grabbed a cheek in each hand, and spread them. His rosebud was tight and pink. I wanted to bury my face in there and tongue him. It was so easy to imagine how the width of my cock would force his ass apart. I grabbed the lube and smeared some on the nozzle and my fingers, then touched his puckered asshole for the first time. He shivered. "It's cold!" "It'll warm up." I worked it over his hole, teasing it with my fingertip, smearing it around. He continued to stroke his dicklet. Slowly I worked my fingertip inside him, pushing against his resistance. Holy fuck, he was tight! My cock was hard as a rock in my sweatpants. "OK?" I asked. "Feels kind of weird..." "Does it hurt?" "No, not really..." Good enough for me. I positioned the slickened nozzle at his twitching hole and slowly, gently, eased it inside him. An inch at a time. His breathing increased, but apart from that he didn't make a sound. "Still OK?" A nod. The nozzle was slim, certainly slimmer than my finger, but this was the first thing he'd had inside him. I gently stroked his belly as he adjusted. When the nozzle was all the way in, I picked up the bag, hooked it over a bed post, and turned the knob. Water began to trickle downwards... along the tube... and into my son's tight asshole. ~&~ It took a while. We didn't say much. I gave my cock an occasional squeeze, but Tristan kept up a slow, measured stroke on his dick. There was something so beautifully obscene about looking down at my 10-year-old son, naked and on his back, his legs spread and an enema nozzle deep inside his ass. His little cock was a hard spike in his hand. His belly had gently swollen with the amount of water inside him. Occasionally a trickle eased out of his clenched hole, but the towel caught that. "I love this," I said, running my hands over his belly. "Sexy." I leaned forward and kissed it, feeling him shiver. I wanted to blow him while he was full, but I didn't want the resulting water to squirt all over the bed. I turned the knob and shut off the flow. "I'm taking the nozzle out now," I said. "Clench real hard. There we go. Good boy." I helped him sit up, then to stand. He touched his belly. It only stood out an inch or so, but on his slender frame it seemed very pronounced. I watched him waddle into the bathroom, gave my cock another squeeze, and settled back. ~&~ We went through another couple of cycles until I was satisfied he was as clean as he was going to get. I had him lie down on his stomach on the bed, his legs spread, then lay down behind him. I grabbed his ass cheeks in both hands, stroking and squeezing his soft flesh. I pulled them apart and exposed his pretty pink hole again. Then, like a starving man, I dived in, slobbering my tongue around his rim. I spat on his hole and worked my tongue inside him. He gasped and started to tremble, then cried out as a dry cum shook his body. I speared my tongue and drove it as deep inside him as I could, holding him down as he writhed and moaned. I ate him out and enjoyed every single fucking second. At some point -- somewhere between his second and third orgasm -- I reached for the lube, smeared it on my fingers, and began working one inside him again. I took my time, enjoying my little boy's increasingly frantic whimpers. I wriggled my finger around then curled it under. Exploring. Tristan wailed through his third orgasm, his whole body shaking violently, then collapsed. "That's your prostate," I said, finally taking pity on him and pulling my finger out. His hole gaped. Only a small gape, but still. "It's kind of like a clit, but on the inside. Anytime a cock or finger or dildo knocks against it, it feels good." "Felt real good, Daddy." His tired voice was barely more than a sleepy mumble. "Glad you enjoyed it. I'll need to finger your tight little hole every day, get you stretched out and able to take my cock. That sound OK to you?" "Uh huh." I leaned forward and kissed the back of his head, then grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed. I tucked it around him. "You're all done in," I said with a soft chuckle. "Take a nap, kiddo." ~&~ He was spark out in moments. I watched him sleep for a few minutes, in love with his innocence, with our exploration of his sexuality. With the simple power of an orgasm. My cock was still hard and I was desperate to cum. I was tempted to pull Tristan's blanket down, beat my meat, then spray my spunk over his ass. I wanted to see the thick white splashes over his hole; it would be another excuse to eat him out. But I didn't want to wake him. So it was time to look for another way to get my rocks off. Lilah, unfortunately, was in town running some errands, but our Labrador was in the house. Both he and Smoky, the Beagle, had their own separate beds, and Bandit was taking full advantage of the warmth of the house by taking a nap of his own. The Labrador was half-asleep as I came downstairs and entered the lounge. His tail wagged, but he made no move to get up. While the idea of taking his cock always got me hot, dog sex required time and preparation. I was impatient to cum. If I could get him to stay still, there was something we enjoyed... Wriggling out of my sweatpants and boxers, I headed over and knelt next to him. His tail wagged harder, but he still didn't get up. "Good boy," I said softly, scratching his ears. He extended his neck and slurped my cock. Fuck, that felt good. I reached for his sheath and started stroking. With a little careful manoeuvring, I was able to crouch with a leg on either side of Bandit's body, my cock lined up with his furry sheath. Slowly and carefully, I pushed my cock inside him. The sensation made me hiss with pleasure. He was hot, tight, and slick. I felt his rocket pressing hard against mine. He let out a little whine but didn't move. This was something we'd done many times before. I started to slowly fuck his sheath, doing my best to keep my strokes controlled and measured. But when I felt his broad, wet tongue slobbering over my exposed asshole, my control snapped and I fucked him harder. I came with a groan. My cum pushed against his cock. I pulled out, panting for breath, completely spent. Then -- because I wasn't a selfish prick -- I carried on stroking Bandit's sheath until his purple-red cock emerged. I sucked him into my mouth, holding him down so he didn't get up and start fucking my mouth, greedily swallowing each spurt of his thin cum when he finally shot. There were still a few hours before Lilah came home. Maybe I'd take a nap, too. ~&~ I fingered my son's ass every opportunity I got. Sometimes Lilah watched. Sometimes she fingered him, too. It was often a prelude to oral sex -- Tristan was becoming a talented cocksucker, even though he still couldn't take more than half my length. After one session -- when I'd rimmed him, then fingered him into a series of body-wracking dry cums that left him almost comatose on the bed between us -- Lilah caught my eye. I knew that look. It meant trouble. Beautiful, terrible, ball-draining trouble. "I want to watch you hump his little ass," she murmured. "I want you to grind against his crease until you shoot. Let him know what it will feel like to have his Daddy over him." I was moving before she'd finished speaking, grabbing the lube and smearing it between Tristan's cheeks. I carefully arranged my cock along the crease, nestling it between each plump cheek. My cock looked so fucking big like that. It would be so easy to press the tip of my cock against his hole... Lilah snapped her fingers at me, grabbing my attention. "Grind slow," she said. "I want to see your hips move." I obeyed her filthy command, grinding my cock against Tristan's ass. Lilah moved so that she was curled up next to me, her fingers in her pussy, her mouth next to my ear. "You're so close to his tight little hole," she whispered. "I know you want to fuck him. I know you want to fuck your 10-year-old son's boypussy." My wordless growl was the only answer I could give. "I bet you've fantasised about how it would feel to push your long, thick daddy cock deep inside him," she purred. "You want to hold him down, don't you? Hold him down and force him to take your cock? You want to hear him scream as you fuck him?" "Oh God, yes, yes, I want that so badly," I babbled, grinding more intensely against my son's crease. The feel of his little body beneath mine was intense. Lilah's words were a deliberate mindfuck, for her and for me. "You want to fill him up with cum until it trickles out of his poor abused little hole," she continued, licking my ear. "You want to take our son. Breed him." "Oh God..." The groan was a strangled sound in my throat. I wasn't just grinding now, I was fucking Tristan's crease, fucking the slick valley between each globe of his ass as his almost-asleep body lay unmoving beneath mine. "Admit it," Lilah said, then bit my earlobe. I yelped and started humping harder. "You've stroked your cock to fantasies of taking our son. You've shot your load thinking about a little boy taking a huge cock that would rip him open. You've got off to that image, haven't you? Turning a 10-year-old into a little bitch?" "Yes!" I wailed, feeling a massive orgasm rising in my balls. "Yes, oh God yes, I want it, oh God...!" I came so hard I almost blanked out. Rope after rope of thick cum blasted along my son's smooth, creamy back. I slumped, barely able to hold my full weight off him. Lilah pecked my cheek. "I know you want to do those things. But I trust you not to." I turned and grabbed the back of her head. I thrust my tongue against hers in a wet, sloppy, breathless kiss. "I love you," I mumbled. "Love you so fucking much." She grinned. "Of course you do. And I love you too. Now be a good boy and lick all that sloppy cum off Tristan's back, then get your tongue between my legs."