Date: Fri, 02 Jul 2021 01:47:05 +0000 From: encolpius1 Subject: Every Man Needs A Boy Part 4 EVERY MAN NEEDS A BOY By Encolpius If I was a shithead to Sam the next week or so after the sleepover, I didn't mean to be. But I had to put a limit to our relationship. He was a little boy. I was a grown man. A straight man at that. I was his coach. He was a player. Just a cog, although an important cog, in a nine man machine that cranks out wins. And if I rode him hard, he didn't complain. And I guess that was the worst part of it. He just sucked it up. I'm guessing adults have been shitty to him a lot in his life. Anyway, I would sometimes catch him looking at me in the dugout, averting his eyes suddenly when I turned in his direction. On the field or in the batter's box, he would look towards me sometimes, like for approval. Burns, my boss, noticed that I was riding the kid. "I get that you identify with him but ease up." he said. "It's like with Jared. I have to remind myself to just let the kid play and be himself. I can't live vicariously through him. He's just a kid, Tyler, just a kid. If he wants to, he'll be a good ball player. If he wants to. But you pushing him won't be the reason he is or isn't." "I hear you." I said. But the thing was that Sam had gone from the poor kid with the ratty glove and high water jeans to being the leader of this pack of nine and ten year olds. He was the best player on the field, far and away, and the other kids knew it. We were 4-0 when we took our first loss. Sam made an error and even though it didn't really matter one way or the other, he blamed himself for the loss. I understood that feeling but he had to get over it. I went over and put my hand on his shoulder, which was sagging pretty low, his whole body slumped in defeat as he walked to his bike. "That's baseball." I said. "You win and you lose. It's what they say about the big leagues, you win a third, you lose a third, but it's what you do with the other third that matters." He nodded. "Yeah, Coach." He wasn't convinced. Losing can seem hard when you aren't used to it. "You know what came in the mail?" I said. "Our rocket!" "Really?" he brightened up immediately. The moods of the young, from despair to orgasm in nothing flat. "You think maybe we ought to light it off tomrrow?" "Oh definitely!" he said, all but jumping up and down in excitement. We went to the park on Sunday and we set up the small launch platform. It wasn't long before there was a group of kids standing around watching. Sam took over and did a mock countdown like NASA. 'On internal power, plugs out, main engine sequence started'. But in no particular order, just what occurred to him. Then we set if off and it soared up high with a whoosh and a small contrail, way up high. Sam watched it go up, totally engrossed. And when it landed he took off running to get it. He was excited as he ran back with it. "It's like the Gemini rocket. It didn't have a lot of blast either!" Except he said "Jiminy" as in Jiminy Cricket and I corrected him. "Nuh uh" he said, his hands on his hips. "It's 'jiminy' not 'jim-in-ee'. You Google it, Tyler, you'll see. I'm right. I know everything!" And he was right. Burns came to me with a pair of tickets, club level seats, to the Braves game that weekend. It was a double header. "Take the kid. He's probably never been." He said. We cleared it with his foster mom, who didn't really care much but she made a couple of snide and rude comments. Saturday morning we won our next game 5-1 and Sam and I headed up to Atlanta. It was a night game that night and an afternoon game tomorrow, so I got a room near the Cumberland Mall, a Holiday Inn Express. It was still more than a $100 and money was a bit tight but I was bringing in steady paychecks so I could swing it. Sam insisted that we be there for batting practice as well and he was excited to see Freddie Freeman in person. We each got a scorecard and I showed him how to score a game. The Braves won. Freeman hit a homerun and Sam was pumped. Even though it was getting late, I knew I had little hope of getting Sam settled down. I figured we would just sleep in on Sunday. I went to take a shower. Even though there were two beds, I was still nervous. I couldn't lie to myself anymore. I cared about Sam. As a person. As a kid. But I was also sexually attracted to him, as strange as that sounds. I guess I got a bit hard in the shower as I was thinking about it. When I turned off the water and opened the shower curtain to grab a towel, Sam was standing there pissing in the commode. "Wow. It's big." He said softly, in awe. He reached out and put his hand on it, wrapped his fingers around it and tugged. "Sam." I said. He jerked his hand away and a look of terror came across his face. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry Tyler. Coach. I'm sorry!" "It's okay. It's not a big deal. You were curious. That's all." I said. "Why don't you take a shower, too. Cool off." My problem was that I couldn't cool off. He had touched me. There. Down there. If you think I felt guilty in that minute, you are wrong. I didn't. I felt horny. Turned on. Whatever primitive part of the brain there is that tells you it's time to fuck was working overtime. It was pumping out the 'let's fuck' hormone double time. I was hot. I got in bed and pulled the covers over me. I was naked. I was hard and throbbing. I needed to crank out a load while that sexy boy, that naked boy, that blond cherub was letting the hot water massage his tight little body the way I wanted to. Crank it out and let the horniness subside. And before he got done showering. I didn't get a chance. He had barely let the water hit him and he was out of the bathroom at a full gallop, his short blond hair matted and wet, water dripping off of him as he bounded on to my bed. Naked. And hard. He jumped up and sat there on his knees, his ass on his ankles. "Tyler", he said, looking straight at me "I wanna see." I didn't argue. I peeled back the covers. My dick was hard and long and thick, my black pubes and my big balls. I held it firmly at the base, almost like a cock ring. "Wow!" he said "It's so big!" Then he jumped up and stood on the bed, his erection pointing up toward his chin. He jumped up and down, his small balls bouncing. Then he stopped, grabbed his dick and pretended it was a gun. He shot me, 'pow, pow, pow', with his prepubescent cock. Then he plopped down beside me and reached out and grabbed my cock a second time. This time I let him. "Mine will be this big, too, one day." he said. Then he grinned. "Bigger even!" "Do you want to do something?" I asked him. He looked at me, a devilish half smile on his face. "Nasty stuff?" "Sex stuff." "Yeah." he nodded. I plopped him down on the bed. He was slight. I could have manhandled him and done whatever I wanted but I didn't. He was cute and sweet and giggling, happy to be naked wrestling. He was hard, too. I don't know, I don't remember even thinking about sex when I was his age. I guess I was curious back then just like he was curious at that moment. So I was going to show him. I might regret it later. I will regret it later. But I didn't care. He was naked and he was hard and he was laughing and he was having a good time and he was sexy as hell. I pulled his legs apart and got between them. "Start with this thing right here!" he said pointing his stiff dick straight up and laughing. "This big old thing!" I put it in my mouth. "Uhhh" he grunts. My first blow job. A nine year old. His pencil thin cock was between my lips. I massaged his miniature balls, so tight against his lean little body. I worked my tongue up the shaft and around the head. "Uuhhh" he groaned again. I was hard. I mean hard, hard. I'd never been harder in my life. And I've been chasing and banging wet slippery pussy since middle school. It was throbbing and I stroked it. I just needed the sensation of my hand around my swollen cock. I wanted to devour this boy. I wanted to own him. I wanted to have my way with him. But I wanted him to love it. I wanted him feel it. For the first time in my life, I didn't want to fuck. I wanted to make love. And I wanted to do it with a nine year old boy. A beautiful, beautiful, sweet, perfect boy. I sucked him. He whimpered and then the instinct of man kicked in. He flexed his ass cheeks and humped into my mouth. He face fucked me. Some part of that pre-pubescent brain knew what he was supposed to do. When he slowed down I came off his dick to spit in my hand to get some lubrication for my own stroking. "No!" Sam said, his face contorted. He was almost crying. "No?" I ask, horrified. Oh my God, I've molested him and done something he didn't want. "Don't stop that!" he cried. "Oh baby, I'm not!" I said. "No, I'm not." I took his beautiful miniature cocklet back in my mouth and I worked it the way I wish women would do mine. And I stroked my own hardness. I was on fire. I was burning with lust and desire. I needed him. I was so hot for him. I sucked him and his whole little body got tense. His balls, so small, were tucked tight up against his body. The muscles of his frame were standing at attention. He was sucking in air between clenched lips. "Ummmmmmmm" he whined, high pitched and long, like a siren. "Uhhhh" I worked it. He panted hard. His whole body was tight, board like. Then he made a strangled cry and his dick twitched repeatedly in my mouth. A dry cum, nothing came out. I came off of it because I knew it would be really sensitive right now. I looked up at his pretty face. He had a shocked look on his face, a look of disbelief. Then he laughed. Loud. He twisted and turned and laughed. "You liked that?" I asked. "Uh huh!" he said, loudly. Then he leaned up and got in my face and he kissed me. A peck on the lips. "I'm going to show you how to really kiss." I said. He didn't know what to do but he tried. And when we stopped, he had a broad grin on his face. And he was still hard as a rock. "Tyler?" he asked hesitantly. "Can I ..." "Yeah, baby. Whatever you want." I said, pointing my rock hard pole toward him. He stroked it and loved it with his hand, grinning the whole time, big eyed and amazed. Then he reached over and put the head of it in his mouth. Warm and wet but I had to warn him about his teeth. He was a little hesitant but he went for it. He took it down too far and gagged and choked and then went back and played with the head. I wish I could say that I was a stud. But I was too hot. Burning too much. He was crouched in front of me, limber like a boy can be, the head of my dick in his sweet little mouth, his tongue working it as he put his hand on the shaft and tugged. That was it. That was all I could take. I cried out and whipped it out of his mouth. I gave it two tugs but I didn't want to spray my juice all over him. I cupped my hand in front of it and tugged. I came buckets. "Wow!" he said. "What was that?" He was bug eyed and amazed. Oh damn, I thought, he hasn't even seen porn. He doesn't know much of anything about anything. He's a total innocent. To the degree any boy is innocent, I guess. "Cum." I said. He looked up at me and grinned. "Cum. Can you do that again?" I laughed a bit. "Yeah. Every time. I just need to rest a bit. Recharge." "Okay." he said in a kid's high pitched voice. A kid accepting that adults are old and frail and can't keep up. He was still rock hard. I laid back down on the bed, both of us still naked and Sam cuddled up next to me. He was hard and I wasn't. My cock was draining the last bit of jizz out of it and he had climaxed dry. But he was happy enough lying next to me, running his hand through my chest hair. "I won't tell anybody, Tyler. Not ever. Not ever ever. It's our secret." He said, suddenly leaning up and looking me in the eye, a serious, somber look on his face. "Yeah, well, I could get in trouble." He nodded, letting me know that he knew that. Then he grinned "But we have to do it again! A million times! A gazillion times!" "Infinity?" "Infinity!" And the kid wasn't shitting either. He started playing with my dick. He was fascinated with it. Running his small hands through my bush, sticky and wet from the ooze, rubbing my cock, playing with my balls. He had a new toy. I wondered if he was gay or just curious. I guess it didn't matter. He wanted to do this and so did I. I don't know. Can you be gay at nine? I guess. I guess it's complicated. I'm 32 and straight and I just traded blowjobs with a nine year old boy and we were getting ready to do it again. He had a beautiful little dick. Perfect in miniature. Hard. Rigid. He thought it was all funny when I tickled him, he laughed outrageously. We mock wrestled and I let him pin me, his lithe body landing on me, barely any weight at all. When I sucked him a second time, I made love to his small pole. I loved on it. Worshipped it. I so wanted him to have the max intensity little boy orgasm. To feel the power of orgasm in every muscle, every nerve fiber, every pore and cell of his little body. I loved doing it, too. I was admitting to myself how beautiful he was, how sexy, how deeply, deeply erotic he was, how alive he was. Every moan, every groan, every grunt drew me forward. It's strange for a straight man but I wished I could taste his cum, drink his cum. But he's just a little boy. No, not just a little boy. He is gloriously boy. He is perfectly boy. There's just no cum to taste. On the other hand, I had cum to taste, but Sam shied away from it. I understood. But he was fascinated by it, too. He watched me intently as I jacked off, helping out with his hand, as I told him how I liked it. And he stared it down. When I came, he laughed and clapped. It was a good show. He wound up sitting on my torso, both of us still naked. "Am I your boyfriend, Tyler?" "I guess you are." He grinned, a big toothy grin and bounced up and down. "I'm the boss of you. Sam is the boss of Tyler!" He plopped down and put his head on my chest. "I love you, Tyler." he said in a small voice. "I love you, too, Sam." I said. And I meant it. For the first time in my life I loved someone else.