Date: Sat, 11 Jun 2022 05:16:23 +0200 (CEST)
From: peterholder@tutanota.com
Subject: A Call to Worship 2

Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fantasy involving sex between men
and boys. If there is any reason that you cannot read that type of story,
the responsibility is yours.

I received lots of nice feedback for part 1. Thanks so much! If you like
the story, hate the story, or want to send me a picture of your dick, you
can reach me at peterholder@tutanota.com or peterholder on Wickr. I
appreciate any and all messages.

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Please enjoy!


A Call to Worship 2 (m/b(10) anal oral)
by Peter Holder


I've been with a lot of men and boys. Something that I've learned about
myself is that I prefer to cuddle. Lots of people, sadly for me, a good
percentage of boys, are done as soon as the act is over; cleaning up and
heading somewhere to watch tv in their newly relaxed, post-orgasmic
state. For me, even if the boy has run off to evacuate my semen from his
lower digestive tract into the toilet, I like to wrap him up in a warm
embrace when he returns. Not only the wonderful sensation of skin contact,
joint experience, post-coital bliss, but also the dirtiness of my wet cock
flopping onto various parts of his body, his equally wet anus pressed back
to my groin. I can lay like that for hours and most boys who do it seem to
enjoy the calming, connected feeling of laying there or even sleeping in my
arms.

I bring this up because, I have come to learn, Scouts don't like to
cuddle. "It's the wings," the sweet angel told me as we sat and chatted
after I fucked him senseless, "They're just not cuddly, so it's easier to
just hang out," then added, "plus, I'm not big on being hot and sweaty
after we're done and if you're wrapping me up in your arms I'd be boiling."
So instead, we sat and chatted. Since he had appeared and we immediately
began to have sex, there was a lot that I needed cleared up. He was happy
to answer my questions, sitting cross-legged and idly massaging his
ever-present erection.

"What is your name?"

"Scouts don't have names. You can just call me 'my scout' or just 'Scout',"
he tried to explain, "we aren't really individuals, we're part of a big
whole, so it doesn't make sense to distinguish one scout from another. Some
people also refer to us as 'cherubs.'"

"Aren't cherubs fat, little babies?'

"No, the artists get it wrong. I mean, sure, we're naked boys with wings
just like the paintings, but we are the spirit of boy, which means that we
aren't babies, we're horny tweens and teens."

This went on and on: there is no god, just the spirit of the universe, the
importance of men being with boys, my Scout will remain mine unless I'm
told otherwise, and that my Scout was in charge of a geographic area,
taking personal pride in increases in the number of copulations with boys
that take place under his jurisdiction.

"Now," he explained when I was satisfied with what I could grasp, "as you
agreed to, your task is to take your sexy self, and you are sexy," he added
with a raised eyebrow, "that's why I'm still hard. You take your sexy body
and find boys. They will be drawn to you. Armed with the knowledge that
this is the right thing, that the boys want it, that the universe wants it,
you will find that you have more boys to fuck than you know what to do
with. Just asked their name and they'll be yours.

"Then tonight," he continued, "you will go to the mall. In the food court,
you will see a group of attractive men and boys at a table. Approach them
and ask for Tim. He will know why you're there."

With that, he leaned to me and gave me a peck on the lips, smiled and faded
from my sight.

It was morning, so I got dressed in some workout clothes. I'm pretty sure
that the cherub let me fuck him too long, because, when I looked in the
mirror I sure looked twenty not twenty-five. Either way, I was anxious to
try my new knees out on a little jog. As soon as I was in the hall and
locking the apartment door, I heard another door across the hall open. A
small hand reached out and grabbed the newspaper that was lying there. The
head that popped out was that of a boy, maybe ten years-old. Probably not
planning to see anyone, he appeared to be shirtless, but he couldn't hide
when a crabby voice inside yelled, "Hurry up with the paper!"

"Yes, grandma," was the high-pitched reply. He instinctively looked around
to see who might have heard the yelling. When he caught my gaze his eyes
fell, likely embarrassed to have his family life broadcast to everyone in
hearing distance.

"Hi," I said cheerily, then I remembered the instruction that the cherub
had given, "what's your name?"

"I'm Preston," he said quietly, but was trying to hide a shy smile, "what's
yours?"

"Julian," I answered and started to walk toward him.

"Preston!" came the second call from inside, "give me the paper then go out
and play."

"Coming, grandma," he called, then to me, "Ill be right back." He ducked
back inside and his apartment door slammed shut. It was only a few seconds
when I heard footsteps running toward the door and it flew back open. He
looked my way immediately and smiled when he saw the I was still there. He
hadn't bothered to finish dressing, but was carrying a t-shirt and was
dressed in black, elastic-waisted, athletic shorts and slides.

"Hi, Preston," I said cheerily when he came out, "it's nice to meet you," I
added and extended my hand.

The smile that I received in return was magical and he slipped his small,
soft hand right into mine and pumped my fist in an exaggerated shake. "Nice
to meet you, too! Did you just move in?" he asked in the uninhibited manner
of a young boy.

Realizing that I had to pretend that I was someone else, I told him, "I'm
helping to clean out my uncle's place," I lied, "he passed away."

"Oh," he responded, "there were two men that lived there, my mom said that
they were married."

"You're right," I told him, "they both died close to each other," then I
thought that I'd test his attitude, "I guess that he died of a broken
heart."

I thought that he'd be too young to grasp the concept, but must have heard
of it, offering his own example, "That happened with my other grandpa when
my grandma died," he explained, "That's what they said, that he was so sad,
and loved her so much, that he died to go be with her."

"That's a pretty good description," I responded, "those two really loved
each other," and I gestured toward my apartment. It was kind of a test, to
see if my equivalency of his grandparents love to a gay couple's love
phased him. It didn't.

"That's kinda nice, I guess," he answered, "it's nice that people want to
be together."

"Yup," I agreed, "I think so too," then I wanted to change the subject,
"what are you up to?" I asked, "going to play sports? You look pretty
athletic," I observed, my eyes gesturing to he bare chest and slim body. He
was sexy as hell and I knew that my first conquest had been delivered to
me. I was going to try what Scout told me: don't play the slow game, he
wants you to take him. Be assertive. It's all natural and as soon as he
realizes that, he'll know what to do. It's all instinct, humans just messed
it up.

"You have a really nice body," I told him.

He looked down to hide the smile that took him over so fast that it
surprised him. Covering his mouth with the side of his hand he answered,
"Thank you." He continued to look down, then finally raised just his eyes
and said, "You look nice too."

The logical next step was to ask him where he planned to go and maybe
accompany him to try to win his trust. Then I reconsidered. If this is
wrong, I'll take my punishment, I can even kill myself, I've had a good
life plus I'd get to see Ervin. So instead of offering a walk to the park,
I thanked him for the compliment and said, "Let's go to my apartment." It
was more like we were in mid-conversation about where to go. It wasn't a
proposition, it was the culmination of a discussion that never
happened. The decision had been made.

"Ok, sure," he responded and we walked inside, me stepping aside to let him
in.

"Let's sit here," I told him, leading to the couch. He plopped down and I
sat next to him, close enough to draw attention to it but not close enough
to seem implausibly weird. Preston started to put his shirt on, but I
stopped him, "Don't bother," I said, "you won't be needing it, plus you
look so good without it." This drew another smile, not the scared,
questioning look that I expected. Instead he balled up the shirt and tossed
it onto a chair that was close-by and sunk back into the couch.

Preston's hair was long on top, the kind that's parted on the side and
continually flops into his face, the sides and back basically shaved. It
was so sexy on this little guy and when it dropped into his eyes, I
couldn't resist reaching over and running my hands through the part, taking
it out of his eyes and smoothing it over his head. When my fingers ran
across his scalp, the boy sighed audibly. I was starting to be mad at
myself for taking so long to seduce boys in the past. I decided to test how
far he would go with this plan; "You know, this will sound silly," I warned
him, "but I was visited by an angel last night."

I recoiled slightly as soon as I said it, the crazy statement out there,
and I expected a guffaw, a frown or an eyeroll. Instead I met curiosity,
"Oh, yeah?" he responded without a hint of irony, "what did he say?"

"Well, it was really interesting," I told him as I continued to touch the
child; fixing a misplaced hair here, running a finger down an arm there,
"he told me that the most pure thing in the world is the relationship
between a man and a boy," I explained. "Does that make any sense to you?"

Nodding his head slowly, he responded, "Yeah, like we should be together,"
he tried to articulate some innate feeling that he'd never felt before,
"Like we should join, I think."

"Yes, that's right," I told him, watching the goosebumps appear as we grew
closer and closer, my feathery touch sending chills down his spine. "He
told me that it was our duty to make the world right, to bring the boys
together with the men. Not with the girls," I threw in for clarity but
realized it probably made no sense.

"Yuck," he responded, "I hate girls, they're gross and so are their parts."

There was no way to stop from laughing at this. Even though it was kind of
how I felt, I knew that the chances were high that Preston would be happy
to procreate with a woman some day. "You may change your mind, but I
understand where you're coming from," I told him, the backs of my
fingertips caressing his cheek down to his jawline where I held his chin
gently while I let my thumb trace the edge of his full lips. "Do you know
what it will mean to be with me?" I asked, again skipping a million steps
that my cautious mind told me were necessary. As I finished the sentence, I
let my thumb slip between his lips and he closed them around the digit
without hesitation before letting it pop back out in order to answer my
question.

"We get naked," he responded, "we play with our parts," and he pushed down
on his shorts to force the material to outline his erect penis as a
demonstration. "It will feel good," he told me as if he was in a trance, "I
think that it is right that we do those things. It's important."

Truly shocked, I asked him how he knew such a thing, "I just know it," he
responded with a shrug, "as soon as I saw you today, I knew that this was
what we needed to do. I knew that I would give myself to you." His eyes
were fixed on mine, no shrinking away. Scout was right, boys did want this!
Shifting in my seat, I let my hand slip behind the child's back until I
reached the waist of his shorts. Slipping my fingers inside, I cupped his
tiny, silky butt and helped him to slide into a prone position, so that he
ended up laying on the couch with me above. When I lowered my head to his,
he lifted slightly and parted his lips, meeting me half-way and thrusting
his tongue against mine. I love the taste of a boy's mouth. Always a
sampling of the sweet or sour things that they have ingested. Preston's
tongue tasted like syrup, maybe a toaster waffle before he headed out
today. Mashing his lips to me, I let some of my weight rest on the boy,
most of it in my crotch pressing against his erect little dick. He was
already beginning to pant into my mouth as we rubbed our junk together.

Breaking the kiss, I moved down to his neck, sucking on the soft skin
before I moved to his chest. I love a child's flat, skinny chest topped
with their little nipples. Preston's were waiting for my tongue, erect and
firm when I sucked his whole tit into my mouth and flicked the nub
relentlessly before moving on to the other.

I wanted to spend an eternity on his body, tasting his stomach, thighs,
even his cute little feet, bare after his slides had dropped to the
floor. But I had a job to do, the best job ever, and Preston was
ready. Sitting back on my heels, I grabbed his shorts and took them along
with his underwear straight down and off of his feet, which he gleefully
kicked to ease the extraction. Naked, hard...just beautiful, he lay before
me. There was no way for me to resist his cock, bending down to take the
two and a half inches inside, savoring the little-boy firmness of his
erection. Preston grabbed my head and pressed me hard against his groin,
gasping when I ran my tongue around and around his cock. I quickly moved to
his tight little ball sack, wetting it completely with long licks before
sucking the whole thing inside, making him kick his legs and twist on the
couch in ecstasy.

Like I said, I didn't feel like I had time to explore him the way that I
normally would, but the one spot that I wasn't going to neglect appeared to
me when I held his legs behind the knee and rolled them up until he wrapped
his arms behind them, his precious pucker winking at me, so tiny and
perfect. He smelled ripe as I got near, but that never bothered me. I like
to know that I'm with a boy and that means sweat and musk and maybe a lack
of showering. He was earthy and sour, but it pulled me in like a magnet and
I drove my tongue straight at his center, eliciting a startled but guttural
cry from the child. "Wow!" he gasped, "that feels so weird."

"Good weird, I hope," I asked, getting no answer before I went back to my
lovely task, tracing the outline of his puffy ring. He was squealing under
my harder and more urgent licks, stopping to push my tongue directly into
his center, feeling that perfect muscle relax, opening to me and welcoming
a finger.

"Oh," he cooed as I slipped inside of him with my index finger, my lips
wrapping his scrotum yp while I pushed my way in. I've always loved this
feeling, the hot, pliable rectum pushing at me, seeming so right, so
perfect, like it wanted to have me in there exploring around.

"Feels good?" I asked, then indelicately, "Do you like me fucking you with
my finger?"

"Y-yes," he sighed, not scared or confused, "it feels wrong and right at
the same time."

"Only wrong in the best way," I offered between tongue lashes at his
ballsack, "I know that it feels different. But if you just let yourself go,
you will be in heaven with those good feelings." I pulled my finger from
Preston's hiney, drawing an unexpected grunt of dissatisfaction. Licking my
middle finger along with my index, the piquant remnants of his insides
faintly teasing my tastebuds. Again, nothing acrid or disgusting, just a
reminder that I was playing with the lovely ass of a beautiful and tiny
boy. When I slithered both fingers into him, Preston grunted at the initial
stretch, then sighed. Right away I began to fuck him with the two digits,
twisting them, pulling at the resistant sides of his tight sphincter. As I
readied him, my needy cock was making it's presence felt. In my passion to
devour the child, I had been pulling him toward me, stroking his cock,
licking his perineam, kissing his inner thighs as I pounded my finger into
him. After a minute, I had pulled him to where he was more on top of me,
still on his back, and my groin was at his chest level. The lovely instinct
must have taken him, because when he saw the big tent that my cock was
causing in my shorts, he didn't hesitate, but reached for it like it was a
toy and began to move it around and rub it through the thin nylon.

"Oh, fuck yeah, baby," I moaned, "feel daddy's big dick," then I upped the
ante, "You want to suck me, don't you?" He beamed and nodded his head,
biting his lip and giving me the most innocent yet nasty look that I'd ever
seen. Preston was so small that I easily slid him from our awkward
positioning to roll him onto his stomach over me, never removing my
constantly pistoning fingers from his pert butt. Laying under him, he was
presented with my dick in his face. The cutie knew just what to do, lifting
the waistband of my shorts and pushing it past my cock and under my balls.

"It's so big," he almost groaned, his diminutive hand wrapping me in his
delicate fingers and pulling at my meat.

"You know what you're supposed to do," I told him, running my free hand up
his back and onto his head, coaxing him to lower his open lips to my
rampant spear, "Taste me," I ordered, "lick my cock and know what's going
to be inside of you." Immediately I felt the warm touch of his tongue to my
slit, the electric connection making me gasp as he took several licks at my
precum coated glans. "That's it," I groaned, "now take me inside of your
mouth like I did to yours." Preston opened up and the tight, ten year-old
lips encased my cock, his warm cavity was so inviting and pleasurable that
I groaned, running my fingers through his long hair and down his smooth
body, caressing his tender skin along his thin shoulders, around his back
and sides, moving straight to his pert butt where my fingers still
stretched him from the inside.

The warm, wet paradise that enveloped my cock made me realize that there
seemed to be no gag coming from the child when my penis was tickling his
young throat. Remembering Scout's instructions, I decided to give him a
small lesson, "Open your mouth as wide as you can," I instructed, "and go
as far down as you can." I wasn't sure that this young boy could take my
thick cock into his throat, but I was acting on a specific instruction from
my, what, superior? Was he my boss? Whatever he was, Scout told me that the
boys needed to take a man inside their throat, letting their semen go
straight into their little bellies. So I was shocked when I felt the tight
band of his throat closing around my glans. "Oh my god, kid," I moaned,
"that's fucking amazing." Struggling with his breathing, he would plunge
down, then pull all of the way off to gasp for air. It would be something
that he would work on, but he was sending me to great heights and I could
feel the thick saliva running down my shaft. I knew that it was time to
move to the main act before I ended things now right down his gullet.

"Ok, Preston," I announced between a few last licks at his tiny, tight
ballsack and cute pecker, "It's time, do you know what that means?" I asked
as I helped him half step, half fall off of me onto the floor.

He stood up next to the couch, naked, hard, his cock wet with my saliva and
when he reached over to stroke mine absently, I could see his thick,
mucousy drool coating my own penis. "It means that we come together," he
answered, surprising me.

"Did someone tell you that?" I asked him, assuming that a ten year-old
wouldn't know about these things.

"My brother told me about boys doing things. When I saw you, I knew that
this was what we were going to do." Preston stopped talking and looked
serious, "I...I mean...I know that it's right, but does it hurt?"

"Not if it's done right," I told him honestly, "and I'm going to be so
gentle with you, you're going to melt." I thought for a second, "How about
we head to the bedroom." Preston was now in a hurry. While we talked he had
been doing and absolutely professional job of manipulating my cock, his
instinct was spectacular. But now he was ready, scurrying out of the main
room and into the bedroom. Running after his cute, flexing butt, I came in
the door just as he started bouncing on the bed. The boy's little erection
was bouncing as he jumped, he was silly and sexy and perfect. Going to the
bed, I grabbed his legs mid-jump and pulled him toward me, making him fall
onto the bed, flat on his back. "It's time," I said calmly, grabbing a
bottle of lube and stroked my cock, "Preston, you're going to get fucked,
but it is a wonderful thing. The more that you want it, the easier it is,"
then I got to it, "Do you want that?"

Preston nodded again.

He was so adorable. His eyes were mischievous, excited, but not
scared. This thing that I'd always thought was "wrong" and treaded so
carefully around was actually normal and felt so perfect. Approaching him,
he knew to pull his knees up, again wrapping them in his arms. This put his
boyhole perfectly turned up to me, wet with my spit, stretched by my
fingers and now lubed up; he was ready.

"Here it comes, sexy," I purred, "enjoy this, it's the most wonderful thing
in the world." Knowing this made the boy so compliant, so desirous. When my
cock touched his hole he shook, a full body shiver followed by an opening
and a sigh.

"Oh, got you're tight," I observed, the sphincter clamping behind my
cockhead, the warmth inside of him, the mushy rectum squeezing me as I
slipped slowly but steadily into his tunnel. In my past I would have spent
hours preparing the boy, then stopped at an inch inside, satisfied with
that progress and hoping for another try on another day. But not
anymore. Now I knew, this was what we were made for and Preston was
perfectly capable of taking me. In fact, he wanted it as much as I did.

"Oh," he gasped, "it's...oh..." he sighed at each inch as it entered him,
"it's...it's...stretching," he tried to describe what he was feeling as
this alien thing entered what had only been an exit. I was shocked at my
progress, continuing to apply pressure into the boy, his eyes locked on
mine, calm, almost observing what was happening then occasionally they
would squeeze shut when I hit a sensitive spot. Before I knew it, my entire
cock was sheathed in his silky pussy. He was still holding his legs, but
when I bottomed, he lost his grip and they spread to the side. They splayed
wide and I couldn't help but caress his smooth inner thighs, massage his
exposed boner, run my hands over his bare pubis and up his belly. Preston
purred as he got used to me being inside of him.

"You're so perfect," I told him, "do you love me inside of you?" and the
boy smiled brightly, "that's good," I said, "it's what's right. I'm going
to move in you now, I'm going to fuck your pussy," I leered. Then I pulled
back, just an inch, before slipping in to the hilt again, my balls resting
on his buttcheeks, my pubic bone pressed into him as if I was trying to
force him through the bed. Two more slow retreats followed by an equally
purposeful and delightful entrance before I started to fuck him. Leaning
down and pressing my lips to Preston, wrapping my arm around his back and
pulling him to me, my tongue forced between his lips, tasting the syrup
from his breakfast, the remnants of my own cock, delicious. He opened to
me, releasing to let me in then gripping my cock and trying to keep me
inside but instead causing the most spine tingling pleasure that you can
imagine.

With him in my arms, I sat up, bringing the 70 pound child with me, then
right over onto my back. Preston was on top, sitting on the pole of a man's
penis for the first time in his short life. Not moving for a moment, I
laughed at his confusion. His butt was flattened on my groin, my entire
manhood buried in him. "You have to do it, now," I explained, then lifted
his butt a bit before letting it fall with an, "ugh!" He picked up the idea
quickly, putting his hands on my chest and lifting up, then letting my dick
fill him again, grunting as he bounced on me. I wanted this to last
forever, but I knew that wasn't in the cards, both from my assigned tasks
but also from my lust and libido. There was no way that I could hold back,
fingering his still-hard dick as he bounced and knowing that I wanted to
empty into him. Feeling my climax approach, I stopped him and lifted the
boy off of me. Tossing his light frame to the side, I placed him on his
stomach and quickly pulled a pillow under his midsection.

Crawling over him, I felt like a giant over the little boy, aiming my cock,
thickly coated with lube, spit and ass funk, and lined myself up in his
cleft, seeking his boycunt. Finding my target, I rubbed his anus for a
moment, the sensation on my cockhead making me twitch, the massage of his
most secret area making Preston moan, his own passion seeming to rise. Then
I gave things a push, breaching his sphincter and entering it's oven-hot
home. "Fuuuuck!" I moaned as my shaft entered him completely again and I
lay more of my weight on him from behind. His rectum was contorting around
me, massaging my dick without me even moving. But that didn't last as I
pulled out half way and slid purposefully back in. Quickly he was bouncing
off of the bed, my thrusts forceful, our bodies slapping together, me
groaning, Preston grunting and I began to feel my climax coming.

"Tell me that you want me to cum in you," I said softly as I pounded into
the small orifice of the lovely child, "say that you want me to fuck you
hard and give you my cum."

"Give...give...me your...cum..." he panted before returning to his grunts
and I returned to my cries of pleasure.

"Yes,,,yes...yes..." I was chanting as I fucked him harder still. Then I
began to feel it, the pressure behind my balls, the tingle up my spine and
I was done, the rush starting, my thrusts erratic. "Fuck, I'm cumming!" I
shouted as I dove over the cliff, my body tensing and the first blast
making my cock flex and unload deep inside the boy. My hips were pressing
hard against the child, "Ugh...take it...fuck..." I grunted as each blast
of my life-giving semen exploded into his silky tunnel, my cock so deep
that I'm sure that my cum ended in his colon. Each spurt was so precious,
wracking me with pleasure until finally my lurching cock slowed, the last
drools of thick cum oozing out into the tiny boy.

Collapsing onto him, I did my best not to crush him, but he actually seemed
to enjoy the weight. The touch of the boy's hot skin against my chest was
sensational and I pulled him tight, rolled onto my side and spooned my legs
around Preston's, my cock slipping out but laying in the wet crack of his
ass. Scout may not have been cuddly, but Preston was mine to worship as
long as I wanted, he was overjoyed to lay in my arms and waste the morning
away.

While we lay in our post-coital bliss, I remembered something.

"Hey, Preston, did you say that you have a brother?..."