Date: Wed, 14 Jul 2021 11:10:22 +0000 From: encolpius1 Subject: Every man needs a boy part 5 (Revised) EVERY MAN NEEDS A BOY By Encolpius AUTHOR'S NOTE: Again, thanks to Skyborn for his help and Gacha_Blue for the collaboration. I have received a couple of comments from part 4 wanting the sex scenes to be more detailed. I hope this satisfies! Feedback is appreciated! erite to encolpius1@protonmail.com DONATE! DONATE! DONATE! FIVE Sam and I slept in the same bed. Both of us were naked and he was cuddled up next to me. He was a bit of a restless sleeper. Even in slumber, he was in motion but I didn't mind. I held his body and smelled him. A sweet scent of soap and boyish sweat. So unlike the earthy, funky smell of men or women. The women I've fucked, even my wife, when I was done with it, I was pretty much done with them. I cuddled and shit but only because they wanted to and if I didn't, the pussy got cut off. The best was the snatch on the road because I could kick them out of bed. But I wouldn't do that with Sam. No, I wouldn't with Sam. I wanted to hold his squirming, restless, active little body, feeling of his thigh muscles, his butt. Did I feel guilty about it? No. You can judge me if you want. But I didn't. I loved it. I loved every second of it. I would do it again with him. Like he said, a million times. And I don't think I took advantage of him. I didn't rob him of anything valuable. He was a willing and eager partner and he didn't value his innocence at all. It was fun so he did it and placed little importance on it other than that. I was laying there thinking about how beautiful and perfect and sexy he was and I must have rubbed him some. He came awake, a little reluctant at first. A stretch and a hard yawn. "I didn't mean to wake you up." I said. He suddenly flopped over and faced me. He grinned. He scooted up, his face in front of mine. We kissed, tongue and all. His new trick. I held his smooth hairless face in my hands, smooth like a woman's. I just wanted to look at him. "You gotta the stinky breath!" Sam said, giggling. His was sweet. He moved down and placed his small hard dick on top of my bigger one and tried to wrap his hand around them both. Then he gave up and bucked his hips like he was fucking, sliding his cock against mine. "Does little Tyler want to play?" "Yes, little Tyler wants to play and big Tyler, too." "And little Sam, too!" He said, jumping up on his knees, cupping his junk in his hand. He had a morning erection but he looked so sweet and erotic, hard and hairless and lean, bouncing with enthusiasm. "And big Sam, too!" "You talked me into it." I grinned. "You have to make it go POW!" he said. "Pow, pow, pow! Cum! Cum! Cum! And Tyler...?" I waited. "Yeah, baby?" "Can you make it cum on me? On me down there." He asked, shyly, grabbing his unit again. "You are a nasty boy." I said, poking him playfully in the ribs. He giggled from the tickling and backed away. "Nasty Boy! I'm Tyler's Nasty Boy!" He said, bouncing as he tried to retaliate in the tickle war. "Fuck yeah!" "Fuck yeah!" He said loudly before giving me peals of laughter. "Fuck yeah!" I kissed his beautiful mouth. I had my hands around his thin perfect chest. His skin was perfect, no blemishes, soft and pliable. My cock was so hard it almost hurt. More rigid than it had ever been going in and out of a pussy. And I loved pussy, too. But looking at this boy, this blond and skinny boy with the easy grin and the bright blue eyes was the most erotic sight I had ever seen. And I wanted to touch him, hold him. His hard, bony body. His velvet skin. We kissed. Me and him. A man and a boy. And I loved it. Every second of it. I wanted to linger and enjoy it. My tongue in and out of his mouth, his was in mine, as we swapped spit. He laid sprawled out on top of me, riding my torso like riding a horse. I put my hands on his firm, round ass. His sacred, virginal ass. Did I get harder thinking about it? I admit I did. I picked him up off my body, rolling to place him beside me, laying him on his back on the bed. I pleasured him with my mouth, massaging his stiffie with my tongue. He had his hands behind his head, relaxed, watching the man do the boy, like he expected to be worshipped. Taking it in as if it were his due. Like I existed to be the source of his pleasure. And, truthfully, I did want to worship that small cock. I did want to exist to be the source of his pleasure. To do nothing but to lick and suck. Work my tongue around it, lick and kiss the head, flick at it, massage the sensitive skin with my rough tongue. I took him to the base but it didn't fill my mouth. He couldn't gag me so I sucked it, hard, licked it and moved up and down on his steel hard boyhood, bobbing up and down, knowing the pleasure he would get from it. I sucked on his small mostly smooth balls and he swatted my head playfully. He wanted me to work on his cocklet not his, as yet, non functional balls. I took the hint. I worked his cock as he moaned and grunted. I could only watch him squirm and wiggle and get tense and have a boy's version of an orgasm, a dry cum. I tongued his balls, his peanuts, again. He didn't have any funky odor there or anywhere. He was a sweet smelling live wire. He sighed and he breathed hard and I knew he was enjoying it. It was weird that a boy that young could orgasm. Orgasm without ejaculation. Strange but, Oh so sexy. It was a revelation but a good one. I was making this boy feel good. His balls, so small and pretty smooth, were tight up against his body. He was sucking wind, softly whimpering. His body got tense and he gave little grunts. Then he shivered and whimpered as he came. It was as if his dick twitched in my mouth, his balls almost seemed to bounce like he was trying to force out cum but hit a dry hole. It was like his body knew what it was supposed to do but just couldn't. But it flooded him with sweet, powerful ecstasy and with overwhelming pleasure. I had been stroking myself as I worked his juvenile unit. And I was so horned up that it was unbelievable. I wanted to ravish him. I wanted to take him. God, I wanted to hold him down and drive my cock into him but he was so small and delicate that I feared what my lust would do. I feared I would break him. No, he wasn't delicate. He was tough. Boy tough. But I didn't want to hurt him. He was a boy, perfect in my eyes. A boy discovering sex and pleasure and lapping it up greedily. No, he wasn't delicate. He was a work of art. Then he worked my dick. Both hands around the thick shaft and he got what he could in his mouth. He gagged a few times but grinned and laughed and went back at it. He was clearly game to work my dick as much as I was for his. But I burned with lust and he burned with... what? Not lust. Curiosity? That, but more than that. It felt good to him. It met whatever need it was that he had. He was meeting it. I didn't know the psychology of it. Male bonding maybe? But he clearly enjoyed naked play. He was using me as surely as I was using him, in the age old truth of sex and intimacy. Friction on a hard dick. His mouth, barely able to get around it, wet and warm, his hands stroking it. He seemed happy to pleasure me just as I was happy to pleasure him. He stroked it and sucked what he could as I ran my fingers through his blond hair, rubbed his underdeveloped biceps and triceps. I felt nothing but sweet pleasure, pure pleasure. "Uhhh." I groaned. I couldn't cum in his mouth. But I could cum in his mouth. I would have but I had made a promise. He rolled over and I hovered above him, jacking myself off until my pearly white cum dropped on his crotch. He grinned, a big grin but a bit shy, before he reached down and rubbed my jizz into his skin. "Nasty!" He said. "One day you'll do the same." He shrugged indifferently. "When I am big." He laughed and clambered onto me, wrestling, trying to pin me down. Giggling the whole time. I tickled him and he collapsed on the bed shaking in laughter. I got over him and tickled him some more as he writhed on the bed. "Stop Tyler!" He called out over the peals of laughter. I did. But when I did, he attacked me. I had to laugh too. It was so much fun playing with the boy. I could do it all day, every day. I looked down and he was still hard. I made an exaggerated face. "I can do what you do!" he said. "What's that?" He grabbed his dick with his hand, a perfect fit of course. My cum, now drying and getting stickier was slick enough to be his lube. He began to stroke himself. Sliding his hand up and down his still rigid dick. At first, he locked his eyes on me as he did it, watching me watching him. It was weird and fascinating, watching a young boy pleasure himself. This insanely private act being shared by one so young and little. He began to buck his hips a little and groan. He closed his eyes and continued to masturbate. Instinctively, he put a hand down under his balls and tugged on them. He sighed as he came a second time and then opened his eyes and laughed. "What were you thinking about when you did it?" I asked. He gave an elaborate shrug. "Me?" "You!" he said, jumping up and giving me a kiss. We showered together, a man and a boy. A man, the hot water, and a boy still sporting his erection. I got stiff again, too. Sam did a little boy imitation of a twerk, naked. He laughed at me for being horny but he wasn't shy about taking and holding my dick. By mid afternoon we were heading back home, trying to beat the rain. The Braves had lost 3-1. Sam was happy enough. He rode in the back seat of my crew cab. I was too ignorant to even know that he was supposed to and didn't know if he needed a kid's seat or not. Sam had trouble sitting still even with the seat belt on. He did most of the talking, chattering away about his school and about the trouble that he and his best friend Jace got into. Jace was our second baseman and I hadn't even noticed that they were friends, much less best friends. Finally, I pulled into his driveway and turned off the truck. "Tyler?" "Yeah?" He looked down. "I won't tell anyone. I won't tell anyone, anything, any at all." He said. I sighed. "Good, Sam. It could get me in trouble. Bad trouble." "But Tyler?" He looked up at me. "We are going to do that, you know, sex stuff, a million, gazillion times, right? I'm still your boyfriend, right?" I looked at him and nodded. "As much as you want." "A LOT!" He shouted, grinning. "Tyler? Do you do sex stuff with girls?" I laughed. "As much as I can." "Okay." He said. It was almost as if I was letting him give me permission to fuck pussy. "Girls are gross and dumb." I shrugged. "Yeah? You might change your mind someday." I had to take him in and see the foster mom. She was the same pig as before and the foster dad seemed cemented to the couch, watching Fox News, sweaty in a soiled wife beater T shirt. The foster mom looked at me as I came into the dirty house. She showed no real interest in Sam but looked at me with disdain. "Nothing went up his butt, right?" I was taken aback just at the crudity of it. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Yeah you do. You know exactly what I'm talking about. You're not fooling me, pervert." "That's crazy." I didn't know what to say. The accusation was true. What would an innocent man say in this circumstance? What is the right level of outrage and anger? I had to think about it, judge it. So, obviously, I didn't want her to go to the police or anything. Definitely not. I didn't even want to be accused, even if nothing was proven. But she was a pig. A real soulless piece of work. I would have loved to see Sam out of that situation. Here's how little he actually cared about them. He almost never mentioned them. They played a big role in his life without really playing a role in his life at all. He was happier with me than with them, and that is the truth. I cared more for him as a person than they ever would. On the way home I thought about camping. I could take him camping. Me and him. On a lake, having a good time. I hoped that he would enjoy the things that I do, outdoors, the woods, fishing. He seemed to be all boy and I hoped he would. Be like a true father and son, catching fish together, him killing his first deer. Well, not exactly father and son. I had other, un-fatherly, wicked thoughts about him. I wanted a state park in the mountains. It would be another two weeks before we could even get a tent site. The timing would be good, though, since we didn't have a Saturday game that weekend. And it was sweet agony until then. Watching him play ball, his body in motion, nearly constant motion. I felt pride with each hit, each well fielded ball, every crisp throw to first. He and his red headed friend Jace horsed around a lot. I could see the friendship now. Jace hadn't been that high in my estimation as a baseball player but he had come along pretty well. I hadn't given him the attention I had given Sam, of course, but some, and he shined with the instruction. He and Sam laughed at their own silly jokes and wrestled and raced and laughed together. For all the sadness in his life, being an unappreciated foster child, Sam seemed to suck the marrow out of life. He found fun and laughter and joy wherever he could. And he was unburdened by lust. I was not. I lusted after him. Powerfully. Constantly. At night, I closed my eyes and got hard thinking about him and me together. I had no need of porn. I had memories. Glorious memories of a little boy with a hard dick and a ready smile, a thin underdeveloped little body, so perfect and hairless. God, I wanted to fuck him. Push my dick in his tight hole. Devour him. Eat him up. Possess him, make him mine. God, I had never wanted to fuck anyone more than I wanted to fuck him. And we were going camping for two nights, me and him. I wondered. I wondered and I hoped. And the thought of fucking him made me cum in a second. A big glob of white cum, as pure sensual pleasure swept over me.