Date: Sat, 28 Jan 2006 08:16:33 -0500 From: Danny Harris Subject: Another Mike the Soccer Coach 08 ANOTHER MIKE THE SOCCER COACH Part 8: A Tale of Two Cherries 2 by DannyR Copyright 2005. All rights reserved. Story Codes: MM, MM/b, t/b, M/t/b, oral, anal, incest, pedo DISCLAIMER: Some folks apparently have trouble distinguishing between fantasy and reality. This story is a fantasy. It didn't happen. Never will. And anyone who attempts to do in real life all or any of the things depicted in the story needs to be hanged, then drawn and quartered, and then turned over to the cops for the harshest penalties the law allows. Now that we're clear on what's what, and what's not, read on. Part 8: A Tale of Two Cherries 2 It was the worst of times. Okay, maybe not the *actual* worst. After all, he wasn't about to pay a friendly visit to the neighborhood guillotine, and wave at Madame LaFarge, sitting below with her knitting basket while waiting for the Queen of Hearts to yell, "Off with his head!" But still, mixed whatever or not, Mike felt a little bit like sulking. Actually, he felt a lot like sulking. To help with his sulking he slowly pulled his still-mostly-hard cock out of the freshly-fucked asshole of young Andy, his son's 10-year-old best friend. The boy was still quivering a little from a very large dry cum. Mike lowered the boy's legs to the bed from their to-the-chest, spread-`em-wide position, and then flopped down on his back beside him. He lightly stroked his cock, enjoying the slimy feel of lube, cum and ass juices. He was really horny, and in the mood for a mini-orgy. Fuck, maybe even a major orgy. And no one was available except Andy. Jimmy, Mike's 10-year-old slut son, was gone with his mother to visit his grandparents. Mike had no problem with Ted, his father-in-law. He was actually kind of hot and Mike wondered just a little bit what he'd be like in bed, especially with his grandson. But then there was Marie, his mother-in-law. They hated each other's guts. Always had, always would. And she'd *really* have his guts for garters if she had any idea how many times her loathed son-in-law's cock had been shoved up the cunt of her precious grandson, or down his throat. Or how many other men had been in both places. So except for holidays when they were forced to be moderately nice to each other, Mike stayed away from family visits. Little Chris, a stellar nine-year-old fuck, was also MIA. His father had been really pissed about the kid staying out all night last Friday. Mr. Johnson thought his son had been with Mike's family without asking permission for a sleep-over first, although he'd been on the West Coast and hadn't bothered to ask to talk to his son when he called home briefly that day. Chris had actually been having his own private orgy with Father Sean, who dropped him off at Mike's place *very* early Saturday morning, pretty much the worse for wear, walking a little funny, cum leaking from his used hole and staining his shorts, but with a huge grin on his face. He stopped grinning when his father came by to pick him up. As young as he was, Chris was both aggressive and persuasive and usually managed to get what he wanted. This time, though, his father had been an immovable object, and Chris unfortunately couldn't make use of his irresistible forces: his hot tight boy-cunt, and his deep-throating mouth cunt. He was grounded for two weeks, and his father had pulled him out of Jackson Elementary and put him into St. Pius Elementary so he could get some discipline. Not exactly punishment for Chris, though, since it would put him in close proximity to Father Sean, and any other pedo priests or teachers who might be lurking around. But definite punishment for Mike, since it deprived him of another boy today. Father Sean wasn't available, either. John, the soccer coach, and little Josh, of the plump sucking mouth and plump little buns with the delicious hole inside, were out of town. Joseph, the accountant for the dio-something, whatever the fuck the Catholics called the group of churches in the city and suburbs, was starting an audit there. Mike grinned. He'd love to have Joseph auditing his hole with that ten-inch black cock, and then turning around and taking a long slow audit of Joseph's very experienced man cunt. Instead, between crunching numbers, Joseph was probably auditing the damned bishop, *and* the bishop's driver. Again. Just when he'd learned he could be a pedo *and* a fag who liked to fuck and suck with men as well, here he was, all depraved and very deprived. He stifled a sigh. Oh, well, at least he had Andy's cunt. And he was just about hard enough for another fuck. Except Andy wasn't laying beside him any more. Andy was beside the bed, licking off his fingers and palm, and digging once more up his butt to get more cum and ass juices out. He finished a second round of licking and then bent over to pick up his clothes. Mike admired the brown puckered ring that practically shouted it had been fucked hard just a little while ago, and then it hit him. Andy was getting dressed and leaving. "Uh, where to, kiddo?" "Sorry, Mike, but my dad said we're going swimming this afternoon. Mom and my sisters are at the beauty parlor followed by shopping the rest of the day for Jane's wedding shit. So dad has decided we gotta do this father-son bonding crap. I mean, I like my dad, but damn, with Chris gone, and Jimmy gone, I wanted to spend some time getting sex with you." "Yeah, I know what you mean. Listen, you got time for a blowjob before you go?" Andy grinned slyly. "Y'hard already?" "Not me, dummy, you. Drop `em, kid." Andy pushed his jeans down to his ankles, while Mike got off the bed and down on the floor. "Damn, but I love it when little boys go commando." He quickly slicked up two fingers in his mouth, shoved them up inside the kid's shitter, and then engulfed the hard little cock and hairless balls in his mouth. Over the past couple of years sexing his son and Andy, Mike had become a very experienced boy sucker. It didn't take more than a minute of working the kid's prostate gland and vacuum sucking his cocklet, before Andy started whimpering and then finally gave a soft cry and shuddered into another dry release. Mike eased his fingers out of the boy's hole, and then grabbed a soft towel to wipe him up front and back, and pull up his jeans, carefully tucking the precious prick and balls inside. >From the way Andy glanced at his watch, Mike knew there wasn't a chance of getting sucked off in return. Okay, time to start the sulk - and get used to using just his hand to get off. Jesus but the rest of the day, hell, the fucking weekend, was going to be a bore. Too bad he didn't have a nice virgin in sight, to seduce into giving up his cherry. Mike had taken his kid's mouth cherry first and then several years later - and damn but he now felt like a fool for waiting - his kid's anal cherry. He'd done the same with Andy. Chris claimed his mouth and butt were cherry, the first time Mike got in them, but Mike had never been quite certain. "Okay, Andy, I guess you have to go. I can take care of this." He gestured toward his again-stiff and leaking hardon. He tousled the boy's hair with affection, and then checked the room again. Nope, still no lurking virgins. As the boy headed out the bedroom door and down the hall, Mike sighed. He had no idea why the idea of virgin male cunt had taken hold of him, but hell, it didn't even have to be a little boy. Sure. He'd take a virgin man cunt and plow it full of hard meat. Only, where to - . "Hey, Andy!" he shouted. "Wait up!" He hurried out of the room, down the hall and steps. If a neighbor happened to look in through the large, open windows and see a naked middle-aged man with a stiff cock running through his own home, well, fuck `em and their horses, too. He caught up with Andy as he was just about to open the back door. "Where're you guys going to swim?" Andy looked yearningly at Mike's thrusting meat. He stretched out his hand and with a fingertip scooped up a couple of drops of precum, and sucked his finger clean. He tore his gaze away from the cock and looked up. "Uh, Jackson pool." Of course. Everything in this part of town was named for old man Jackson. Mike dropped to his knees, and held Andy's face gently. "Remember when Coach John asked you if you'd ever done anything with your dad? Like we do?" The boy nodded. "And you said you'd like to?" Andy's eyes lit up. "Oh, yeah!" he breathed. "My dad is so hot!" That's not exactly how Mike would have described Paul Hamilton, but hey, his son was obviously biased. He carefully didn't think that his own son's enthusiasm for his dad's body, especially his cock and balls, might be equally biased and equally based on a vision of not-quite-reality. "You ever see him naked?" "Yeah. All the time. Well, at least when mom and my sisters aren't around. He says it's just us men around so it's no big deal. But we have to cover up when girls are around." Hmmm. "What about with a hardon?" Andy looked embarrassed. "Uh, well, yeah, once. I don't think he knew I was home. He left the bathroom door kind of open and I saw him sitting on the stool, jacking off. My dad really cums a lot. Even more than you, Mike. And he caught most of it in his hand and licked it up. He even reached down and scooped up some that dripped on the floor and slurped it off his finger. I was soooo stiff right then it hurt. But I knew he'd be mad if he knew I saw him doing that, so I tiptoed away, and then went downstairs and pretended I just got home." "And you've been swimming with your dad before, haven't you?" "Yeah, lots. Years `n years." "And when you get naked, to get into your trunks or out of them, you ever see him checking you out? You know, like I do you and the other boys in the locker room after soccer practice?" Andy shook his head again. Then he shrugged and gave a little smile. "Well, I was always trying to see *his* dick, so I wasn't looking up that high." Mike chuckled. "So what if we see today if he'd like to sex his boy, and maybe let me watch?" Andy looked right at Mike's face with a huge smile, which was a big change because usually if there was a hard cock in sight he was staring avidly at just that and nothing else, and licking his lips. "Could we, Mike? Really?" "Well, we'll have to be real careful. He could get really, really mad if he's not interested. And then I'd be in deep shit." "I know, Mike, but I wouldn't tell, honest. I haven't all this time, have I?" Mike reassured the boy that he was trusted. But he also thought - okay, so maybe the fuck it *was* just a stiff dick wanting to get off with a virgin type of thinking - that maybe, just maybe, Paul might be into the scene after all. Mike's very own virgin pedo daddy. "Okay, Andy, here's what we'll do. You go on home, and see if you can stall your dad for just a little while." Mike looked outside and noticed that some grey clouds were forming up in the east. Shit. If it rained, Paul wouldn't go to the pool. "I'll get dressed, grab my swim gear and try to get to the pool first. And if your dad says something about canceling because it might rain, just give him your sad little puppy-dog look - you know, the one gets me up your cunt faster than almost anything else - and persuade him how much you want to spend time with him, and how you can always leave the pool if it starts to rain." Andy nodded and ran out the door, leaving it to bang shut behind him. Mike debated taking a quick shower, at least to clean the smell of cum and sex off him, and then decided he didn't have the time. He pulled on a jock, a pair of cut-off jeans, sandals, a tee, grabbed a couple of towels and his new Speedos - so okay, he had a bit of a belly but it wasn't that bad, and the Speedos made his cock bulge look nice - and then made a quick circuit of the house to be sure everything was locked. The pool was less than a mile away, and he wasn't really speeding, well, not very much. It felt like one of those short-haul trips where the plane goes up at a steep angle, hits the point of the top of the triangle, then steeply down again to land and suddenly you're there. Three, no, four cars in the lot, and two pulled out as he found a place to park - a *really* easy feat - near the front door. The entrance and changing rooms were in a two-story building, although he'd never known what the second story was for, and the three pools were out back: a small wading pool for very little children, the largest pool which wasn't much more than seven feet deep at the far end, which was for swimming and in-pool horse play, and then a mid-sized square pool with deep water, two diving boards and a multi-level diving platform. Mike paid his dollar fee - old man Jackson had set up a *well*-endowed trust fund to keep the park and pool operating - and went inside. The changing room was empty, and as usual the smell of lockers and chlorine and general damp, and even a hint of wet, naked men, clutched at Mike's belly and made him quiver. The combined smell didn't get him instantly hard like the way it happened when he inhaled in a t-room that was primarily used for sex, but it was still a turn-on. He went to a bench in front of a row of tall lockers that were directly visible from the entrance. Checking over his shoulder first, he moved the bench just a bit closer to the lockers, opened the doors on three adjacent ones in the middle, and then two more so it looked like five doors had been left open at random. He put his towel in the right-hand of the three center lockers, and then sat down in front of the middle one. Now all he could do was hope that Andy would be smart enough to pick up on the cue and get his dad to use the lockers by Mike, instead of elsewhere in the row, or worse yet, elsewhere in the room and out of sight, since Mike couldn't really suddenly change lockers. He hadn't squeezed his aching cock more than a couple of times, though, when he heard Andy's voice yell from behind him, in a remarkably convincing tone of surprise, "Hey, dad! Look, it's Mike!" Damn but Andy was good. Mike looked over his shoulder with what he felt was a fairly decent half-surprised, half-welcoming expression on his face. "Hey, Andy, Paul. Decided to get a great tan today, did you?" "Yeah, right," Andy said right after he sped over, gave Mike a quick hug and plopped down on the bench on Mike's left. What with looking at Andy during the brief hug, Mike missed the slightly pained expression on Paul's face at the affection between his son and the father of his son's best friend. Paul really wished Andy would be that affectionate with him. But he couldn't risk being too close to Andy. Too dangerous. And with that open locker to Mike's right that meant he wouldn't have to undress right next to his kid. Thanks for being here, Mike. You just solved a problem. Paul sat down to Mike's right and dropped his bag on the floor. "Okay, guys, let's get in some pool time before the storm hits." Mike and Andy nodded their agreement. Good. A quick change without too much eye contact, or with luck, none at all and then they'd be in the pool. It didn't quite work out that way. Andy put his foot up on the bench, turning slightly toward Mike, and began fiddling with an apparently tangled knot in the laces on his trainers. It was, of course, pure chance that his shorts were very short, very loose, and anyone who chose to look could see all of his soft prick and tight little balls. It was also, of course, very difficult to keep from getting hard when the goal was sex with his daddy. At the same time, Mike pulled his tee over his head, tossed it into the middle locker, and then toed off his sandals one at a time, dropping them in the bottom of the locker. Paul had bent over to untie his own laces and looked to his left just as Mike leaned back to kick the second trainer into the locker. Paul's eyes helplessly slid past Mike's slightly hairy chest, a rounded belly that was kind of...no, goddamnit, it wasn't sexy, he gave that up a long time ago...and then across, and well shit! - straight up his son's shorts to that beautiful, beautiful prick and balls. Christ, he hadn't seen his son's package in years, and it sure as hell looked a lot bigger than he remembered his own dick being when he had been just ten. Then the view was blocked as Mike sat upright. Paul focused on untying his own shoelace. Paul's problem, though, was that Mike stood up, skinned his shorts down to his ankles to show a well-worn jock, and then Mike kicked the shorts in the air with one foot and caught them with his left hand. He turned a little bit to his left and with a partial squat, leaned toward his gym bag, which was on the floor and just beyond Andy. Mike rested his left hand on Andy's left thigh with a murmured, " `scuse, kiddo," dropped the shorts in his bag and started rummaging around for something. Paul didn't know where to look. Well, hell, of course he knew where to look - anywhere but to his left. That just wasn't working. There was still that money shot of his boy's precious tackle, and then there was Mike's hairy butt, sharply outlined by the jock straps. It was practically in his face, all he'd have to do was lean a little bit forward and he could bury his nose and mouth in that crack. He held himself in place, shut his eyes on temptation, and then made the mistake of inhaling. Christ! There was nothing that turned him on more than the raw smell of a man, even though he hadn't smelled it for at least ten years, except when he fingered his own asshole after getting all sweaty for a day, or ran his fingers through his pubes and then sniffed them. He couldn't help himself. He opened his eyes just as Mike, without any discernible self-consciousness, reached back with his left hand, pulled on his butt-cheek, and rubbed his asshole like he was rubbing an itch. And there was something about that hole. It was dark brown. And it looked, well, used. And not by something coming out. Something going *in* instead. Frequently. Paul pulled back as Mike stood up and stretched. Then Mike did a sort of striptease, as he wiggled out of his jock without looking at father or son, and then lifted the jock with his right foot, grabbed it with his left hand and then repeated the whole squat, bend, show the hairy asshole to the nice man next to you routine. All that was missing was rub-the-ass-pucker time. Paul inhaled again and just barely kept himself from moaning. Goddamnit. He wasn't going to embarrass himself in front of his kid. Or another father who couldn't have any fucking idea what he was doing to Paul. Mike didn't have any idea, of course, but he sure as hell knew what he *hoped* he was doing to Paul. So he kept right on going. Completely naked now, with his cock nicely plumped up, he turned to his right and thanks to moving the benches earlier, had to straddle Paul's legs to stretch his left arm up to grab at the towel in the shelf at the top of the right-hand locker. Naturally he apologized for forgetting that he had put his towel in the wrong locker. Still straddling Paul's legs, with his crotch virtually in Paul's face, Mike raised the towel with both hands and vigorously toweled his hair, which made his cock flip back and forth and plump up to half-hard. He glanced down. Paul was staring straight at Mike's crotch and further down Mike could see a nice bulge developing between Paul's thighs. Paul couldn't help himself. He inhaled deeply through his nose, basking in the raw smells coming from his neighbor's crotch. The familiar scent of a man's sweaty cock and balls. The smell of cum. The smell of asshole. Paul almost let his mouth drop open in shock. He sniffed again to be sure, oblivious to the fact that Mike and his own little boy might be watching what he was doing. Yeah. Mike's dick had been up an asshole and not all that long ago. He put his hands between his legs and squeezed his aching prick. He was bent over. Mike wasn't going to notice. Of course Mike did. Okay. So Paul was at least turned on by man cock. Now to find out if kid cock did it for him, or especially, the cunt of a young boy. His very own son. Mike moved so he was standing with his back to the center locker. Paul had an unobstructed view of both Mike and Andy. Mike made sure Paul saw him look at Paul's hardon and then up to Paul's face. "Nice hard there, guy," he said in a surprisingly believable we're-all-men-it-just-happens tone. Paul glared up at him and made to cover his crotch, but realized he'd draw even more attention to it if he did. Christ. He had a fucking hardon in front of his own kid. Jesus, what a pervert he was. "Well, you gonna change or what?" Mike asked. "You're the one pushing for pool time before the storm." Paul visibly hesitated. "Oh, hell, man, you've got a damned hardon. So what? Shit happens. Here, now I do, too, so you're not alone. So you wanna get a move on?" Paul's mouth did drop open this time when Mike suited deed to words and with a few quick strokes his nice 7-inch prick was standing out from his body with a slight upward angle. Paul looked over at Andy, trying to figure a way to explain away the boy's undoubted shock and disgust. Instead he found his precious little boy with a naked chest, shorts on the floor and a stiff little dick of his very own. Instead of being disgusted, Andy was grinning. "Jeez, dad. I know about stiffies. Sex ed. Remember?" Paul nodded. "Okay, so can we go swimming or what?" Paul nodded again, and in a trance quickly got rid of his own trainers and socks, unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, just letting it drop, and then stood up, unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down to the floor, along with his tighty-whities - which had a noticeable precum stain on them. He stepped out of his clothes and stood naked in front of his locker. Christ. He was naked and hard in a public locker room where anyone could come in, with a naked hard neighbor dad, and his own naked little boy with his own stiff little dick. This was fucking sick. Not quite conscious of what he was doing, Paul put his hand to his own cock. Mike liked what he saw. Paul was about five-eight, 170-plus pounds, balding rapidly, a round face, small rimless glasses, the start of noticeable tits, but with big nips, hairy between his tits with a narrow treasure trail leading down his torso, past the distinct love handles and down to dark curly pubes. His cock was six, maybe six and a half inches. Not too thick, not too thin. Just right for fucking a young boy's mouth or ass. Now to find out if he might be interested in doing just that. "Hey, kiddo, got your suit?" "Sure, Mike," Andy said. "Right here." With that, Andy turned around toward his own gym bag. With his back to his dad and his fucker-friend, Andy balanced himself with his left hand on the bench, and then with his legs spread a little wide and a slight squat, he bent over as if he was looking for his Speedos. Which naturally left his recently-fucked asshole very visible, and left him in a close-to-doggy-fuck position, in case anyone was interested in getting him all the way there. Paul couldn't help himself, he just blurted out, "Christ, Andy, what's wrong with your asshole?" Andy looked over his left shoulder, as if he could somehow see his own hole. "Nothing, dad. What's wrong?" "What's wrong?" Paul's voice got louder. "What's fucking wrong?" He got a grip and tried to think of what to say. Instead of the tight, rosy-pink little pucker he would have expected his son's asshole to look like if he'd ever thought about inspecting it, and he hadn't, goddamnit, or at least, not very fucking much, it was a kind of dark brown/purple. And open just a bit. And opening a bit wider, relaxing, and then clenching again, as white liquid oozed out of the hole's center and started to slide down the boy's perineum towards his balls. Without thinking it through first, Paul bent over, still with his hand on his own leaking cock, and with his forefinger scooped up the liquid, pausing for only a moment on that not-so-tight hole. He straightened, sniffed his finger, licked it clean, and said "Cum." Then he realized where he was and what the fuck he'd just done. Okay. So, well, fuck it. He was still the boy's father, and he still had the right to know who'd just raped his angel. Mike. It had to be Mike. Andy spent so damned much time over there. Paul turned a furious glare on Mike, raised a clenched fist. "You just fucking raped my little boy and then you brought him here to make sure I knew? You fucking goddamned pedo pervert!" "No, daddy," little Andy said, grabbing hold of his father's left hand. "He didn't rape me. He fucked my cunt really good. I like it when he and the others fuck me." Mike? Others? Paul dropped back to the bench, completely unaware that he was still harder than he'd been in years. He had to get a grip on this. Not his cock, but the situation with his boy. "How - " He gulped. "H-how long?" "I got to suck his dick on my seventh birthday," Andy said proudly. "Jimmy helped. `n Mike said I was a natural cocksucker." "Three years?" He glared up at Mike, carefully avoiding noticing that Mike's prick was still hard and now leaking thick precum. "You've been having my little boy suck you off and fuck his little ass for three godammn fucking *years*?" "Oh, no, daddy. He didn't fuck me `n Jimmy until right before we were ten. We wanted him to earlier, but he wouldn't." Andy used his left hand to stroke Mike's hairy thigh. He grinned up at Paul. "Mike's a natural cocksucker, too, daddy. He makes me feel real good. `course I can't cum like he does, but you cum better than Mike, daddy!" Andy clamped his mouth shut and did a full-body blush. His father's expression told him he'd better explain himself and pretty damn quick. "Honest, daddy, it was just that one time. You didn't hear me come home, and you were sitting on the toilet jacking off, and I couldn't help, you looked so hot, and you kept on jacking your dick and, and, and then you shot cum in your hand - oh, daddy, there was *so* much cum, nobody cums like you - and you licked it up and you even picked up the cum on the floor and licked that, too. "I, well, I was scared you'd be mad if you knew I watched, so I was real quiet and went back outside, and behind the house, and jacked my dick and played with my hole until I got that really good tingly feeling when I cum, and then I made lots of noise and pretended I was just getting home." About the only thing Paul really retained out of that explanation was that his kid thought he shot a really big load. He couldn't help feeling proud. Out of his fucking mind to feel any such thing. Out of his fucking mind since he wasn't beating the pedo pervert in front of him into a bloody pulp. But still. His kid liked his dick and liked his cum. "Please, daddy, can I suck your dick? Or maybe, maybe you'd like to fuck my boy-cunt? Mike says it's real tight and he likes to cum up inside it." Mike wasn't sure that all those reminders that Andy's little boy-hole wasn't quite as tight as it used to be and was definitely not virgin territory was going over too well with the boy's dad. But Paul was still hard and his fists weren't clenched. Progress. Paul licked his lips. He didn't know what to do. Well, he sure as fuck knew what he *wanted* to do, but not whether he should, or even really could. He'd wanted to do what Andy asked for a long time, so even though he wasn't getting the joy of taking his kid's virginity, well, fuck, it was his damned fault for not taking care of it on his own, a hell of a lot sooner. So really, Mike had done him a favor. Got him ready. And from the look of his son's pussy, the kid could take a pounding. Paul ruffled his son's hair. "Sure, kiddo. I'd love a blowjob from my favorite little boy and I'd love shoving my dick up his cunt. As soon as we get home." Mike stepped out of the way and Andy dropped to his knees between his father's spread legs. "Oh, no, daddy, right now." And then he dropped his head and swallowed every goddamn inch of his daddy's prick. Paul moaned loudly in sudden ecstasy. Reluctantly, he put his hands on the side of Andy's head and stopped the motion. He couldn't quite bring himself to get his prick out of that warm mouth, not with that agile little tongue swirling all over and around his dick. Fuck, but that was a turn on. "Sorry, Andy, it's too risky. Someone could come in. We can't. "I wouldn't worry," Mike said. Paul had almost forgotten Mike was there. He looked to his right and there was Mike's cock, oozing precum right at his face and mouth level. What the fuck, his boy wouldn't see it. He'd always wondered what a man's cock would taste like; damned if he wasn't going to take the chance and find out. He leaned forward, and plunged his mouth halfway down Mike's cock, being careful to keep his teeth away. It tasted fucking good. It tasted like he'd always thought cum, and man-scent and ass juices would taste. He licked the piss-slit and then pulled his mouth off. Mike smiled down at him. "I think we're the only ones here." He gestured to the windows up near the ceiling. None of them had even noticed that the storm had broken and it was raining heavily. Mike said, "My guess is the two cars in the lot when I came in are the attendant who took our money and the lifeguard. They'll be busy closing the place down. C'mon, man, let your boy blow you. Or let him give you a quick hard ride in his pussy, and when you get home you can fuck him long and slow and deep." Like most men, Paul's horny cock, buried for the first time in a little boy's mouth, his *son's* mouth, didn't give a fuck about problems and dangers. The job, here and now, was to get off and get off good. Paul nodded. But he pulled Andy up off his cock after a few strokes that left his meat spit-shiny and slick. Public or not he had to get his dick inside his boy's tight, cum-slick cunt. Andy knew what to do, he put a towel down, straddled the bench and laid down on his back. Mike sat at his head, his cock resting on Andy's hair, his hands holding the boy's ankles up so his legs were spread wide and his hole was visible to his horny father. Paul straddled the bench, too, and scooted closer. He spit on his forefinger and slowly inserted it into his boy's pussy. It slid in easily. He added another finger and began to move them slowly in and out. Mike smiled. "You a virgin, Paul?" Paul looked up from his boy's stretched little hole and gave Mike a what-the-fuck-do-you-think-I've-got-a-son-I'm-finger fucking-you-asshole look. "Not that kind of virgin. You ever had a little boy before? A preteen cocksucker? Young boy cunt? Inquiring minds wanna know, Paul, are you a pedo virgin?" "Yeah." "Wow, Mr. Hamilton, way to go, dude. You gonna fuck your little boy's pussy? Can I watch?" The three on the bench froze in place. It took the two men a couple of seconds of absolute I'm-fucked-I'm-fucked-I'm fucked fear to process the words. All three turned their heads and found a stunning teenager standing near them. Taller than either of the men, slender, short blond hair, blue eyes, a killer six-pack, small stiff tits, a lifeguard's whistle around his neck, a faint treasure trail from his belly button down to his pubes. Pubes which were obviously a natural golden brown, since his Speedos were under his balls and he was jacking a handsome uncut six inch dick. Shock wears off at a sight like that. Quickly. Not enough to speak, but enough for Paul to nod. The boy - hell, he couldn't be more than fifteen, sixteen tops - pulled the whistle off, wriggled out of his Speedos and left both on the floor as he came up by the bench and stood looking down at young Andy and the two obviously horny men. "You like to get fucked, l'il bro?" he asked Andy. Andy nodded. "Yeah, me too. Only my dad doesn't do it so much since I've gotten bigger and all hairy and stuff. So we both fuck my own l'il bro, he's eight." The lifeguard tugged on his balls and jacked his dick a little faster. He couldn't seem to stop talking. "Dad says I'm not supposed to tell anyone, and Jesus, he started dicking me when I was four and did the same to Terry when he was four and I haven't said anything. Can't tell the cops, that's for sure." The lifeguard grinned as Paul and Mike's expressions turned even more puzzled. "I'm Allen - Al - Porter. My dad's the chief of police." He laughed out loud at their pole-axed expressions. "Relax, you guys, he's the chief over in Schuylerton." He let their expressions change to relief before he said, "It's my Uncle Jack who's chief here in Stonewall." Al realized he'd better stop the tormenting, much as he loved doing it, or he'd lose out on the chance for some new boy-pussy. "Hey, don't worry. They're cool. It's not like I'd complain to the cops anyway. It's great havin' a pedo daddy, and I get to be a pedo too with Terry, that's my brother. He loves it. But man, I sure wouldn't have figured you guys for pedos. Dad'll love the news, I bet. It'd be so cool to let you guys use Terry and Dad `n me could sex little Andy here. If you couldn't come over to our house, daddy'd bring Terry and me here. He doesn't mind driving if he's gonna sex a boy when he gets there. Oh, hey, Mr. Carter, you sexing *your* little boy, too? Could he join in? You'd like that, wouldn't you, little dude, getting' fucked by other men?" "Whoa!" Mike stopped the near-babbling that was accompanied by the teen jacking his cock in an even more frenzied manner. "Hold on. We just met and already you've got us swapping out our kids, and yeah, I do fuck my own boy regularly, for sex with your dad and you. Let's hold off on the future until we're done here. Okay?" "Sure, dude. `cept, well, can I watch? Please? And maybe, when you're done with him, could I fuck him too? You'd like that, wouldn't you, little dude? Gettin' fucked by your daddy, and then fucked by Mr. Carter, and then havin' teen dick shootin' cum up your leakin' pussy?" Andy was definitely up for it and nodded vigorously, adding a moaning, "Oh, fuck yeah. Daddy, can we, please, please, please?" Paul was far too fucking horny to object, as his fingers moved even more rapidly in and out of his boy's asshole. Let the kid watch. They could all three fantasize about what might...well, shit, might as well be honest, what *was*...going to happen down the line. But right now, he really, really, really needed to fuck his son. He pulled his fingers out and scooted closer so the head of his dick was pushing gently on the slightly open hole. Al spoke up again. "Y'know, guys, it'd be more fun upstairs." Frustrated, Paul stopped his hip thrust and almost glared at the teen. "What's upstairs?" "Storage rooms and stuff. But we've got a mattress and lube in one room." Al recognized the question in the adult eyes. He grinned. "With all the men and teens around here, you aren't always safe if you play around in the changing room or the showers. So me and my buds use the room upstairs. See, dad says it's okay for me to fuck and suck with guys my own age, or even older men if I find one I like and who wants to fuck some teen boy-pussy. I just can't tell `em I'm a pedo. Young pedo, but what the fuck, right? "C'mon. It's okay. The other guy left and it's just us." They all left their clothes where they were and stark naked, all four with raging hardons, walked through the building, up the stairs, and into a small room whose main feature was indeed a queen-size box spring and mattress sitting on the floor. A small table had an obviously part-used tube of KY, and a fairly good-sized greasy-looking dildo sitting on it. The sheets were a little crumpled and there were two towels on the bed, crumpled, too. The room reeked of cum and poppers. "Uh, well, guys, I didn't know I was gonna find you and I was horny, so I brought Max, that's the attendant, up here for a quick hard fucking. Thought it would be nice to go home to with a cunt full of cum and see if Terry would like to suck it out." Mike and Paul looked at each other and silently agreed. Paul told Al he could join in. The two men, a teen and a young boy got on the bed. Andy knew what he wanted and took the lead. He got on all fours in the center of the bed, his ass up in the air. "C'mon, daddy, suck my hole and then puppy-fuck me, huh?" What's a father to do? When his son begs with helpless (ha!) little puppy eyes, surely he deserves a good hard puppy fucking. That's what Andy started to get only a couple of minutes later. Paul slicked up the boy's hole with his tongue, while Al got down and with his very talented, very experienced mouth got Paul slimy with spit as well. Paul rested the knob end right at his boy's hole, and hesitated. "C'mon, dad," Andy begged. "Just shove your cock up my butt. I can take it." And indeed Andy could. And did. Paul held himself very still after that one hard shove buried his dick to the balls in the hot tight sheathe of his little boy's ass cunt. Mike was to his right, stroking Paul's back with his left hand, edging down toward Paul's butt. "See, Paul, you're not a pedo virgin any more. You got your dick balls-deep in a young boy's cunt for the first time, and he's your own son. C'mon, Paul, fuck your little boy. Dick his hole while Al and I watch and play with you." Paul started off with slow strokes, just pulling about half out before oozing back in. Al and Mike continued to stroke and play with his body, feeling him up where his cock and his boy's cunt met, fondling his balls, stroking him everywhere. Mike spoke up again, as one fingertip circled Paul's tightly clamped asshole. "You any other kind of virgin, Paul? Sucked any dick? Had your man pussy plowed?" Paul was in too much of a haze of pleasure to quite understand where the questions were leading. Al had no such problem and he winked at Mike over Paul's back. "No. Oh, Christ, baby boy, your cunt feels so hot and tight around daddy's dick. I've...uh...I've had some guys give me blowjobs. Fucked a couple. But that was...Jesus this is good pussy!...a long time ago." Al had already picked up the KY and handed it over to Mike, who moved behind Paul. Jesus wept, but this was so fucking hot. Paul had never been fucked! And Mike was just the guy to relieve him of his unwanted virginity here and now. Okay, so he might not know just yet than he didn't want his virginity any more, but that could be changed. Mike slicked his cock up good, wiped the excess off his hands, moved into place, and got ready. He figured it was better to ask for forgiveness later instead of permission first. He kept on stroking Paul's back and sides and then, when Paul started the third of a series of long out strokes so his knob end was all that was left in the boy's hole, Mike grabbed Paul's hips and pulled him back, hard!, and the head and half the shaft of his dick were inside Paul's no-longer-virgin asshole. Paul howled. He'd never experienced such pain before, and he damned well wanted it to end. The problem was that before he could work through the searing pain and start to fight, Andy had reached behind himself, grabbed onto Paul's slimy dick which had popped out of the boy's hole when Paul had gotten half-impaled, and then Andy backed right up so it was once more all inside of him. That just started the pleasure sensations all over. And with Mike not moving, Paul's asshole began to relax. Mike felt the relaxation and carefully got the rest of his seven inches inside. "Oh, man, your virgin cunt is *so* fucking hot and tight. Haven't had a virgin hole since my boy, and Andy. Wait `til you get *your* chance, Paul," he breathed into Paul's ear as he bent over and began his own doggy-fuck. "It's such a fucking, fucking turn on to know you're buried in a not-virgin-any-more hole!" Al watched the three getting into a rapidly increasing fuck rhythm, watched as they all started to breathe harder. He jerked his own meat, but he wanted something more. He wasn't sure he could actually get his own dick inside Mr. Carter, but, hey, what about Mr. Hamilton's mouth? Yeah. Fucking go for it. He stood with his legs on each side of the little boy, bent his knees after getting his balance, and lifted Paul's head from where he had let it drop down, eyes shut, gasping with the pleasure emanating from his boy's cunt and his own man cunt. Al slid his teen dick carefully into Paul's mouth, let it rest there for just a second as Paul seemed to get used to it easily, and then began sliding his meat in and out of the warm, wet mouth. Oh, yeah, this pedo daddy was a good mouth fuck. Young stud teen mouth fucking a pedo daddy. Pedo daddy sucking cock while fucking his own little boy's steaming hot pussy. Another pedo daddy getting a change of pace and ram-fucking the man-cunt of the first pedo father. They all began moving faster and faster in and out of their respective holes. Despite having cum when he'd been fucked earlier in this room, Al was first to shoot, blasting a thin slimy load of hot teen cum into Paul's mouth, while Paul frantically gulped so he wouldn't lose a drop of the heavenly taste. Paul went next, shoving his cock up his boy's hole so hard the kid fell flat on the bed, pulling the two men down with him. While rope after rope of thick man-cum filled Andy's little hole, the boy was screaming and writhing in dry cum after dry cum. Mike did the right thing. He grunted hard and shouted, "Oh, fucking, YES!" as he filled Paul's hole with spooge. They held their positions for a moment, until all the cum was drained and Andy had lapsed into a half-coma of ecstasy. Then they eased their dicks out of the various holes, and collapsed together, holding and caressing each other. The rest of the afternoon, while the thunderstorm pounded the building, was spent making their own kind of lightning. Andy got fucked in every conceivable position, sucked off the other three at least once, and had innumerable heaving cums of his own. Paul sucked off Mike while Al pumped his teen meat into Paul's butt. Al was everywhere, playing with everyone, and paying special attention to Andy, his new pedo-buddy. Mike managed to fuck Paul and Al, and suck off Andy and even another boy-fuck, although he didn't have much cum left by then. When they were finally all fucked, sucked and cummed out, they separated and then got up for the naked walk back to the changing room for quick showers and getting dressed. As they walked, or somewhat staggered in the case of the two worn-out pedo fathers, Mike mentally patted himself on the back. He'd had a great idea that morning. Paul had lost his pedo-virginity by fucking his little boy, and lost his man-sex virginity by letting, well, sort of, Mike fuck his man-cunt, all in the same afternoon. Mike sighed. Forget "Three Dog Night." He'd take a two-cherry day any fucking day.