Losing Custody

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This is a WORK OF FICTION and not meant to be taken seriously in any way, shape, or form. The author of this work does NOT condone child abuse in ANY WAY. This story depicts sexual acts between adult males and male minors. If you are under 18 or if this sort of literature is illegal in your country, STOP READING NOW.

Now that that's out of the way, enjoy this story, and don't forget to message me! Don't cum until the end!

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I always get real lazy after a good jerk off session, and I usually end up surfing the web once I close out the video of some bitch getting fucked. This time was no different—until I clicked on "suggested friends" on my Facebook page.

I'm still covered in big globs of cum drying on my rippled abs and big pecs when I come across the picture. Without thinking, I click on the thumbnail, and instantly my 11-inch, black-as-night monster gets rock hard, even though it's still pulsing from my very recent orgasm.

I've never considered myself attracted to boys—especially boys this kid's age—but there's no denying that my two giant black nuts are already starting to churn up another load just looking at this picture. The man in the photo looks somewhat familiar—he's skinny, wearing black, plastic-framed glasses and a trim reddish brown beard. He's got a shy smile and looks nervous. He's in a backyard somewhere, on one bent knee.

But what's really getting me excited is what's sitting on his other knee. The little child—a gradeschooler, definitely—perched on his father's knee is smiling at the camera. He's got alabaster skin, almost translucent it's so pale, except for the smattering of brown freckles across his little nose and cheekbones. He's got bright orange hair that flops over his forehead—a messy tangle of little boy mischief. But what I like most of all is his eyes. They're bright, BRIGHT green and so captivating that I can't look away, even as I reach down with both hands and begin to pump my cock.

Staring at that picture, I realize one thing: I HAVE to have that child. Specifically, I have to have that child impaled to the root on my massive dick, over and over again. I will own him.

I've gotten like this before, though only with adult women. When I have my eye on a girl, I obsess. I can't let her go until I know she's mine, until I've sprayed her insides with my cum.

This is different, though. Because the person I'm now becoming obsessed with isn't some woman hungry for my big cock. It's a little kid who's probably never even seen cock or thought about sex before. But all the same, his guts are going to be coated with my nigger nut. It's just a matter of time.

I look at the caption under the photo, and that's what pushes me over the edge into a second, massive orgasm. It reads, "Me and Benji are doing well after the loss of my beloved Shelly. Benji misses his Mommy but he's being a strong boy!"

Wesley

It's getting close to dinner time, and Benji is the only boy left on the playground. I'm happy to have a moment of peace and quiet, sitting on the park bench looking at my work emails. I know he'll tire himself out soon, and then I'll get him home and have him take a long nap while I cook dinner. God, I think to myself. Being a single dad is so much harder than I ever could have imagined."

I look up to make sure my son is still behaving. He's galloping up the steps of the wooden castle that makes up our local playground. He still goes up steps in that silly way—all fours, his little rear end sticking up, like a little monkey.

He's an imaginative kid and has never had trouble keeping himself entertained. And his confidence has been really down in the dumps ever since the accident that took his mom and my wife away. Even now, though, as he turns to head down the slide, I can see that he's not his old self. He still has plenty of energy and lots of questions, but he doesn't laugh or smile as much. It hurts me, because I love him so very much.

I'm just about to tell him it's time to go when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out and see the Facebook message, but when I tap the screen, I can't believe my eyes. I haven't seen that face in years, but it still instantly makes my heart start pounding and my stomach turn.

It's TJ, the star of my college basketball team. TJ, the most popular boy in school, who had all the girls after him. TJ who was rumored to have the biggest and best cock on campus. TJ, who ignored me the entire four years we went to school together, except for the handful of times he threatened to beat me up if he couldn't steal my answers for a quiz.

So what was he doing messaging me on Facebook? I quickly scanned the message.

Hey Wesley,

Long time no talk. How ya been? I just stumbled upon your profile and thought I'd give you a shout. Hope you don't mind.

I was just browsing through Facebook and came across your page. I saw you still live in Dogwood – funnily enough, I'm actually thinking of moving out there. I should be coming into town next week to check it out, actually. It would be nice to catch up over a brew or something, right?

Let me know if you're free sometime next week.

- TJ

P.S. I'm sorry to hear about your wife. Was it recent? I see you're a father now, though! Your kid is adorable. I bet he's a real handful! ;-)

"DADDY! HELP!" Even the sound of my son in distress isn't enough to pull me away from the message on my phone—at least not right away. However, when he calls out for me again, I put the phone down and rush over to him.

The little guy is stuck on the jungle gym. He's on all fours on the ground, his hands buried in the wood chips, and he's somehow got his head stuck in between two of the bars. This kid really is a handful—he is always getting himself into sticky situations, especially since I've become a single father.

I drop to my knees and assess the situation. Benji is really in a tight spot this time. I start to work his head out, telling him to hold still as I yank gently.

My mind wanders back to TJ. I just can't believe he messaged me. Hell, I can't even believe he knows my name! Why on Earth would he want to meet me for beer? Was it a trick? Was he still looking to humiliate me or give me another beating, all these years since we'd graduated and parted ways?

I grab my son's hips. "Hold on, kiddo, I'm gonna have to pull hard a bit here," I say. This is not the first time I've had to get my kid out this kind of silly and adorable problem.

I'm a naturally curious guy, so the questions I have about TJ are very interesting to me, even though they are making me feel a bit sick to my stomach. As I pull on my son, I realize I have to do it. I have to meet up with him—the curiosity would get to me otherwise.

"Ouch!" my son yelps as I finally pull him free. I stand him up and brush him off, and decide it's time to run home so I can type out my response on my computer.

I can't believe how easy this has been. I thought for sure he wouldn't respond to my message, but no less than an hour later I get a message from him that is short but very well composed. I can tell he's spent almost that whole hour writing the thing so he sounds cool (which he doesn't) and confident (which he really doesn't).

In no time, I've got him ready to meet me for coffee at his house, which means I'll have the added bonus of getting to know his son right off the bat, too. God, sometimes it's just too damn easy to be a charming, black perv.

Benji

I'm holding my stuffed puppy, Rover, and standing in the kitchen doorway, cause I'm too nervous to go in. I don't know that man. He's big and tall and his skin is so dark! Daddy says it's not nice to point that out, but I haven't seen a man with such dark skin. Most people in our town are white like me and Dad.

I'm a little afraid of him, but I also can't stop looking at him as he chats with my daddy. He's just soÉdifferent. He makes me want to squeeze Rover real tight, but I also kinda want to run up to him and say hello. I'm too nervous though.

He keeps looking at me, though, and it makes me get all hot in the face. I don't know why but when he looks at me like that I feel really weird, like I can't move at all or even think! It's so weird—I've never felt like that before.

"Hello," he says, and he smiles. That smile—it's like he has too many teeth! It makes me feel so funny. But I have to pay attention, cause he's talking to me.

"You must be Benji," I say, smiling as big as possible. I can't help it—the kid's photo doesn't even do him justice. He's so fucking tiny, and his hair is so orange it looks like he's on fire. I'm so glad I wore my tight briefs today, because as I wave the little guy into the kitchen, I can feel my anaconda snaking around my hip in an effort to escape and get acquainted with the immaculate little kid.

"Y-y-y-yes, s-s-s-ir" the boy stammers out, and I feel a drop of precum drip from my throbbing cock head. Are you kidding me? He has a stutter? Or is he just afraid of me?

"Well, your daddy has told me a lot about you," I lie. His dad hasn't even mentioned his son, but that doesn't mater. I'm here to charm both father and son, and juding by the look in Dad's eyes, I can see that he's watching me very closely to see how I interact with his child.

"H-h-he has? Like wh-wh-hat?" the kid spits out, and I realize that I've hit the jackpot. He's not just scared of me—he's actually got a stutter. And it's a major turn on I never even expected. Damaged little goods are just so delicious, aren't they?

"Well, he told me that you like toy guns. So, look what I got you!"

I reach into my bag and pull out this lame, fluorescent green watergun I picked up on my way here. It isn't much, but the little boy's eyes light up real big, like it's Christmas. I have no idea if he actually likes toy guns—I just wanted to bring that toy cause I have some good ideas for it.

"Go on, it's yours!" I say as I hand him the gun. He gives me a quick "thanks," blushes real big, and runs off to the living room.

But as he goes, I see him look back at me and smile once more, and I'm certain the boy is going to be mine.

Wesley

"We don't usually have toy guns in the house," I say as I sit down at the table.

"Ah, he'll be fine. Boy needs some fun things right now, huh? Sounds like he's having a tough timeÉ"

I nod, solemnly. "Tough time doesn't even cover half of it," I say. "Ever since the accident and he lost his MommyÉhe's beenÉ"

"Stuttering?" TJ says. "Poor thing. That happens with trauma sometimes. But I bet with some strong male influence and a few fun toys, he'll turn right around."

"Really? You think so?" I am so impressed by TJ. He's not the scary, jock asshole I remember from college. He's been so friendly since he arrived, and he really had a way with Benji. I haven't seen my boy smile like that inÉ

"Of course. I studied child psychology in grad school," TJ says, placing his big, dark hands on the table. "Stuttering is all about confidence. And who better to install confidence in the kid than two men like you and me?"

I've never considered this before. The doctor said Benji's stutter would go away in time, but it's been months now, and to be honest, it's been really worrying me. What if he stutters for the rest of his life? What will it be like for him at school?

"I guessÉI guess you have a point. You sound like you know what you're talking about."

"Well, I could help you guys out. I know it's not much, but I'd be happy to start some speech therapy with the little guy. I could help him and youÉya know. Since you've been through so much, it's the least I can do."

I can't believe he's saying this. He used to make fun of guys like me, and now he wants to help my kid overcome his stutter? Is he trying to attone for his years of abuse toward me?

"NoÉI couldn't accept—"

"I insist," TJ says, standing from the table. "Tell ya what, why don't I come back next week?"

I can't believe how easy this has all been. It's only been six weeks since I started "training" Benji, and already his dad is asking me to move in. Benji hasn't made any progress with his stutter—after all, I actually know jackshit about child psychology.

Well, that's not exactly true. I actually know a lot about how Benji's brain works. I just don't know jack shit about speech therapy. But spending a few hours a day with this kid over the past few weeks has really given me a glimpse inside his mind, and I realize now how easy it's going to be to take over. He's so damaged right now, so fragile, and his father is a wreck. With me in the picture, it's going to be easy to carve out a little hole in this kid's brain, so to speak, and fill it with my cum, cock, and big black dick.

Neither member of this broken family is going to know what hit him.

Benji

I'm so excited that TJ is moving in! He's been so nice to me, and he's really cool. He's so big and strong—sometimes he lets me hang off his biceps like I'm a monkey! And he plays other fun games too, like tickle monster. He chases me around the house and then pins me down and tickles me! It makes me laugh till I cry, because his hands are so big and strong. Sometimes it hurts when he pokes me, but I don't mind.

Daddy says TJ is moving in because he's helping me get better with my stutter. I think Daddy's also lonely too, because whenever TJ's around he's always watching us and wanting to join in. But TJ says that when I'm having my speech lessons Daddy should just watch, not join in, so I guess that's OK.

TJ is sleeping in the spare bed in the garage for now. It's all musty and gross in there, but we don't have a guest room anymore. TJ says he can turn it into something fun, maybe even like a clubhouse for me and him and Daddy. I'd like that—we'd be like three men hanging out!

Anyway, tonight when TJ is done moving his stuff Daddy says we can go out to dinner to celebrate. I asked for pizza and Daddy and TJ both said that was a great idea! This is the best day ever!

"C-c-c-can I have s-s-some?" Beji asks, and both his father and I crack up laughing. He's looking at the pitcher of beer that just arrived at our table, which I ordered to celebrate the next stage of my plan.

"No, this is a big man's drink," I say. Benji looks absolutely crestfallen. "But you can have some soda!" I hand him his drink, and this seems to satisfy him. He starts chowing down on pizza hungrily, in a daze and not really paying attention.

It's been absolute torture the past few weeks being around this cutie and not giving him the dick in every way possible. I've been so good, but I can't wait any longer. I should probably postpone my plan until I've lived with these guys for at least a few weeks, but I really can't wait. Plus that garage is nasty and I don't want to sleep in there more than I have to.

The first part of my plan is to get Wesley drunk, and by the way he's putting away beers, I'd say I'm doing well. He's been worked to the bone with his high-pressure IT job and the task of raising a kid by himself. I can tell he's happy to finally cut back and let loose, since he has a "trusted friend" here with him to get him home and make sure some pedophile in the pizza parlor doesn't make a pass at his son. If only he knew what thoughts were running through my headÉ

Mainly it was the thought of that pizza-loving little slut child on his back, his pale legs behind his head, as I sink my big nigger dick into him inch by inch, turning what he thought was an "out-only" hole to one that now accepts large, black packages.

I was raging hard under the table—I was always hard around Benji—but I knew by this point Wesley was good and drunk enough for me to start the conversation.

"Benji, here's a few coins. Why don't you go play some pinball?"

"Ok! Th-th-thanks, T-T-TJ!" Benji says, and he runs off, practically vibrating form excitement. He's so easy to please.

Wesley

"God, he really is a handful, isn't he?" TJ says as he fills up my beer glass.

"You can say that again." I love Benji, but his energy, despite his sadness, does wear on me from time to time.

"He's a special kid, though," TJ goes on, draining his own beer. "He's different. There's something off about him."

I try to focus, but my brain is so fuzzy. "Off?"

"YeahÉlikeÉthe way he acts around me. He's not like other kids."

"How so?" I ask, taking a gulp of my beer. I really should slow down.

"Well, he's just different around men. He's so comfortable with men."

"With me and you, you mean? YeahÉhe likes you a lot. I do too, TJ," I say, and then realize how gay I sound. Alcohol always makes me like this.

"Well, I like you guys too. I'm really glad we reconnected."

"Me too. I think it's gonna be great having you around." I wink at TJ and immediately regret it.

"I think so too. And I know Benji is gonna love it."

By the time it's time to head home, I'm way too drunk to drive. Fortunately TJ seems to be in good shape, and we make it home safe and sound. Benji is all tuckered out from his pizza and playtime, so he's just sitting quietly in the back.

When we make it home, Benji announces he has to go potty.

"So do I," TJ says. And come to think of it, so do I.

"You can go first, Benji," I say. "I'll go after TJ."

"Why don't we all just go together?" TJ asks, and part of me thinks he must be drunker than I thought. He can't be serious, can he?

"OK!" Benji says. "I like peeing with the m-m-m-men!" he giggles, and before I know it, he and TJ are racing up the stairs to the only bathroom in the house.

I stumble up after them, figuring it's not that weird. I mean, I remember peeing with my dad when I was a kid. This is no different—except what about TJ? Whatever he's got in his pants is sure to stir up some questions in Benji's mind.

But I don't have much time to think about it, because soon we're all in the bathroom, crowded around the toilet, me on one side, TJ on the other, and little Benji in between us. We all unzip.

Benji

I start to pee, but then I stop all of a sudden, because I can't believe what I'm seeing. There's a snake in TJ's pants! His pee pee isn't at all like mine. It's just so big! It looks like it's about the size of my arm at least, and it's just hanging there, big and heavy. The tip of it, with the funny little helmet on it, is about the size of my fist. And it's as black as night. But why is it so big?

I wonder if all grown up pee pees are that big, but when I look at my Daddy's weiner, I realize no way! His is MUCH smaller, though it's still a lot bigger than mine. But his is not even half the size of TJ's, and it's all white and wrinkly. I defeinitely like TJ's better, but I won't tell Daddy that!

Wesley

Shit, I can't believe this. Why am I feeling so humiliated? It's just cocks—and of course TJ is bigger than me. I knew that back in college, cause his nickname on campus was "TJ the Tank Dick". But stillÉI had no idea it was THAT big! And the thing is completely soft. It makes me look like I have a kid's dick, and my little guy's pee pee just looks like a finger compared to it.

I'm trying not to stare, but it's just about impossible, especially when the big, heavy stream of yellow piss starts to cascade out of his massive, soft shlong. I can tell Benji is totally mesmerized too, and that makes me feel really weird. Almost jealous.

Finally I start pissing, and so does Benji, and soon we're crossing three streams into the toilet. But even TJ's piss stream is so strong and powerful and pungent—I can't believe it, but for some reason, the heft and sound of his yellow piss is making me feel inferior to him. What is this all about?

It's too damn easy. I didn't even have to suggest it—Benji did it for me. It's like the kid WANTS me to take control of him. Even though he's super tired and it's late, he begged to stay up and watch one of his favorite movies—some lame cartoon about a talking puppy.

Dad of course gave in, because Benji is so cute, and when he stutters out a plea for "j-j-j-just a little more time with you g-g-g-guys" it's impossible to say no. Benji's god his dad wrapped around his little finger, and I'm about to have Benji wrapped around my big finger. Or rather, my big, dark, nigger cock.

Of course, it's only a few minutes before Benji is passed out on the floor, curled up in a ball. He's wearing his choo-choo pajamas with tracks and trains all over them, and he's sucking his thumb—another annoying habit he picked up after mommy died.

It's now or never. I decide to go forward with it, and surreptitiously pull up my phone. Wesley is still drunkenly watching the stupid kid's movie, so he doesn't notice as I pull open a vid of hardcore porn on my phone.

I slowly turn up the sound so he can hear the slap, slap, slap of a guy jerking off his cock on my phone. Little does he know the guy is me, and it's a video I made while I was thinking of his little boy.

"What the fuck?" Wesley slurs, staring at me.

"Hey," I say, trying to keep my voice cool as possible, "I figured since he was all tuckered out, I'd tug one out real quick. Jerking off in that garage isn't exactly ideal." And with that, I yank out my cock and start to stroke it to its full size.

Wesley

I can't believe what's going on. TJ has his cock out, and it's rock hard. If I thought it was big in the bathroom before, I had no idea. The thing looks like it's well over a foot long, and it's so thick that even TJ can't get his big, hands around it. And he used to be able to palm a basketball!

Meanwhile, there's the sound of porn playing on his phone, and it's mixing with the happy music and childish voices coming from the movie on the screen. It's so weird hearing those two sounds together, and I'm so shocked by what I'm seeing, that I find myself completely unable to say anything to him.

"You can join me if you want," TJ says, then leans back and starts really enjoying himself, throtteling his big cock with both hands

I can't jerk off with my kid right there! Benji is asleep just a few feet away. But TJ is staring at me like he's expecting me to make a move, and for some reason his gaze is almost impossible to ignore. So I find myself reaching into my pants and withdrawing my own average-sized white cock.

I can't jerk off with two hands like he can—he's able to slide his hands up and down away from each other, and when his one hand is on the base of his dick and the other on the head, there's at least 10 inches of space between them. It's madness!

We're both just watching the jerk-off video on his phone, and I realize that the cock on the phone looks just like his. I decide to ignore it.

"This is nice," he says as he strokes. "Sitting back, sharing this with you. It's really nice to have a home to relax in. I'm glad we can share this." He pauses. "All three of us?"

My eyes are suddenly drawn to my sleeping little boy, and it feels so wrong to have my cock out, hard, leaking in my hand while looking at my offspring. But it doesn't make my hard on go down.

"What do you mean, `all three of us?'" I ask.

"Well," he says between the slick slick slick noise of his hands on his massive black cock, "I mean we're like a little family. Like that show, two-and-a-half guys or whatever. Just you and me and your kid, enjoying the things that men do best. Eat, piss and jerk off."

I laugh, but even I can hear how fake and strained my laughter sounds. "Well, Benji sure does love to eat. But he's probably a few years away from jerking off."

There's an awkward pause where we just jerk off a bit, both of us looking at Benji. Then, to my surprise, TJ says, "Not necessarily."

"Wh-what do you mean?" I say, stuttering like my own child.

"Well, some kids can haveÉorgasms. I think the term is boygasm."

"What? No way. I didn't start jerking off till I was 12 or so. You mean older boys?"

"NoÉ" TJ says, now just sorta massaging the thick, brown head of his dick. "I meanÉboys Benji's age. Even Benji himself."

"WhatÉwhat the fuck are you talking about?" I stop stroking my dick, wishing it wasn't so hard so I could stuff it away. This conversation is getting weird.

"I meanÉwe could be sharing this moment with Benji. It would be a nice bonding moment."

"I'm not teaching my kid to jerk off!" I say.

For some reason, TJ finds this funny, and the throws his head back and laughs in his deep, rich voice, not for one second stopping his two-handed assault on his massive member.

"No, no, you're right. Kids like Benji don't jerk off like you and me. But they doÉexperience boygasms. They just get them in a different way. It's actually good for them"

I can't believe my ears, but then I remember how he said he was a child psychologist. He must know about these things, right?

"How—how is it good for them?" I ask, my voice shaking. I find my hands are back on my dick.

"Well, it releases stress. It calms them down. It would certainly get rid of some of that excess energy he has. In factÉit might even help him get that confidence he needs to finally overcome his speech impediment."

"You've got to me joking me," I say, but I can see in TJ's handsome face that he is absolutely serious.

"I can show you, if you want. Right now."

I'm so proud of how this all came together. I got Wesley just drunk enough that he's letting me take charge, but not so drunk that he'll forget this all in the morning. I want him to remember us, here, on the floor, on either side of his sleeping son, getting ready to wake him up to take him through his first boygasm.

I'm seated at the boy's feet, sitting on my knees, and his dad is in the same position at his head.

"You wake him up," I say. "It'll be better that way." Really, it's a lame excuse, but I can't rightly tell him that having him wake Benji up sets the tone—that Dad and Son will be taking orders from me.

"B—" Wesley starts to say. Then he swallows hard and composes himself. "Benji, sweetie? Wake up. Daddy and TJ need to talk to you."

The little boy stays still for a moment, then breathes in heavily through his nose. His orange hair is mussed up in the most adorable way, and he gently wipes his eyes before opening them to stare at us with his blazing greens. He immediately smiles, seeing us standing over him.

"HiÉhi guysÉ" he says sleepily. "I fell asleep. Did I miss the movie?"

I realize the movie is still playing, and I decide I want it to keep playing. It'll be fucking hot to have this kid's favorite children's movie playing while he gets what's coming to him.

"It's ok, buddy, it's still going," I say as I stand up. That's when the little kid notices my cock is out. His eyes grow wide and he starts to stutter, but I can't even figure out what word he's trying to say. Instead, I focus on getting compoletely naked, showing off my rock hard, muscled body, massive cock, and big, black-as-night, hairy balls. I throw my jock strap to dear old dad, and decide it's been enough fucking around. Time to get this kid boygasming.

"Here. He's gonna need something to bite down on," I say to Dad, talking s if Benji can't even hear us. He's still trying to say something, but he's just repeating the w-w-w sound over and over.

"What? You want me to?"

I nod. "Put them in his mouth," I say as I get back down onto my knees.

There's a long moment when Wesley and I are making eye contact. But it's an important moment. Because I can see in his eyes that he's thinking, one more time about challenging me. He's thinking of calling it quits, kicking me out, and taking his boy upstairs to bed.

But his cock is still rock hard, and as I stroke my massive cock at him, in front of his son, I see that final spark in his eyes die. Wesley is mine now, and so is all of his property, including the frail little sack of skin and bones between us.

Wesley

I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm actually cooing to my son, telling him to relax, as I stuff a black, used jock strap into his mouth. Why aren't I stopping this? Why can't I say no to TJ?

I suddenly feel like I'm having an out-of-body experience. I can't do anything but watch, listen, and react as the scene plays out before me. There's no more question in my mind of protesting—for some reason, I know that I can't. Even though this is my son, and we're under my roof, I can only watch and listen to this man whom, only six weeks ago, was a long-lost and unpleasant memory.

I watch as this man slowly tugs down Benji's PJ bottoms, so that he's completely naked from the waist down. He leaves the little boy's shirt on, because apparently the only parts of Benji that are important for this demonstration are below the waist.

I'm waiting, my heart pounding, for him to grab Benji's little cock and start stroking, but to my surprise, he instead grabs the boy's ankles and pushes his legs back, then hands them to me.

"Pull these back as far as they'll go and hold them," he says, as if he was talking to me about a simple object, like a doorknob or lever. But in reality, he's talking about my son's tiny little ankles.

I don't object—I'm still too stunned. Instead, I just take his ankles and pull them back, and I'm surprised at how flexible my boy is. I can actually make his toes touch the carpet on either side of his head. He's bent completely in half.

Benji

Am I still dreaming? I don't know what's going on! I'm so tired, but I'm also pretty scared. Why am I naked, and what is this thing in my mouth? It tastes so salty!

I feel really weird, like 1,000 people are staring at me or something. Daddy and TJ can see my most private part—the part between my butt cheeks. I don't know the name for it, but the place where I go to the bathroom from. Now it's on display! No one is supposed to see that part of me. I've never even seen it, but now I can feel the cool air on it!

Oh no! It's not just cool air—TJ is touching it! Wow, it feels weird. I can feel his big finger on it, just sorta ticling my hole. It feels kinda good actually. Now TJ is licking his finger and rubbing his spit on my holeÉand something else too. Something slimier than spit that he got off his weiner, which is still really big and hard by the way!

Wow, now it feels really good on my bum. I like the way he—

Wesley

"No," I try to say, but my voice catches in my throat. Anyway, it's too late. The big, thick, pink tongue is already lapping at my boy's hole, and it's making me rock hard. That, in turn, makes me feel so ashamed, but I still do nothing to stop it. I keep holding my son's legs up as this man goes to town, making out with his little sphincter.

Benji is going nuts! I've never heard some of the noises come out of him, even with the dirty undies in his mouth. I can't tell exactly what he's trying to communicate, but it seems to involve at least some pleasure. He's writing around, his little copper top in my lap, thrashing back and forth.

But the most insane part of all of this is the fact that throughout the entire time this man is slobbering on my son's pucker, he's making eye contact with me. His dark, mischievous, and I have to admit, handsome eyes lever leave mine. It's like he's tauting me as he licks, spits, and sucks on my kid's butt hole.

"How—how does it taste?" I hear myself asking, my voice trembling.

"Like fucking candy," he says, and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he's not lying. "Your kid's hole was meant to be eaten."

"Ooooh," I moan, and it's like he takes this as a cue to really start munching. My boy's moans change to surprise, and a bit of pain, as that thick, fat tongue begins to push at his hole.

I can see that TJ's face is all shiny and slimy from how much he's spitting on my kid. The boy's ass crack is dripping with the man's saliva, and I can only imagine how wet the boy's hole is. The spit must be leaking into my child! Oh god, why can't I stop him?

Benji

I feel like I'm gonna die! I feel so weird, but I never want it to stop! I can't believe TJ is licking my bum hole! I want to laugh and cry and scream and moan all at the same time, but these undies in my mouth won't let me!

Oh god, it feels so good and weird! I look up at my Daddy for a second, and he looks so funny. He looks like he just watched a horror movie or something! I want to ask him what's happening to me, but there's no way I could talk right now, even if I had these undies out of my mouth!

My hole feels so wet and slimy! And full! I think TJ is actually putting his tongue up inside my butt! I never knew anything could go UP my butt before! Why didn't my Daddy ever tell me that? It's making my butt jiggle like crazy! So silly!

Suddenly the licking stops, and I want to tell him to please keep going. But then—

"Ouch!" I try to cry out, but the undies in my mouth muffle it. Something is pushing up my but! I can't see it, but I think it's—

I watch my thick, black, dark middle finger sink into that pink little white boy cunt, and I know I'm doing everything right. Benji's innards are everything I thought they'd be and more. Velvety soft, like silk, and warm as pie. And goddamn that anal rign is so tight I am already losing circulation in my finger.

That's going to be a problem, because I know I'm going to need at least two of my digits in this cunthole before I can bring Benji over the edge. And it's best to get the other one in there while he's still adjusting, even though he's making some pretty sad noises right now.

"I'm going in with another one, OK?" I say to Wesley.

But he doesn't even look at me. He is transfixed on the place where my black knuckle meets his boy's white pussy. I slap my cock hard on Benji's right ass cheek to get his attention.

"Hey, Welsey, look this is your kid, so I want you to give me approval on this," I say. I need him to be in on this so I can use it later. "I'm going to take a second finger and shove it into your kid's hole. It'll help him boygasm, OK?"

Wesley nods slowly, not that I actually needed his approval. Benji is getting three fingers before bed if it's the last thing I do to him (but don't worry, it won't be).

I slowly press my pointer finger up against my already-buried middle finger, and with a bit of effort, it pops in. This elicits the most adorable little stutter-yell from Benji as he feels what it's like to have two adult fingers in his little cunt. I can't imagine what's going through his head, or his father's.

Not that I care, because right now I've got two of my fingers buried inside the sweetest cunt I'd ever seen. And this is just night number one!

I could finger this kid forever, but I know Dad is looking for results. This is a very delicate time, because one wrong move could break everything down. I've got to be careful, which means getting Benji's first boygasm out of him sooner rather than later. And I know what that means.

"Go up to the garage. In my suitcase, in the front pocket, there's something I need you to grab. Hurry."

Wesley

I rush up the stairs from the den and head to the garage. On the way there, I look at the bathroom and think for a minute about going in and puking. I feel so strange and confused. Downstairs, my child is on his back, legs in the air, while his ass hole is manipulated by some black stranger from my past.

And instead of stopping the situation or calling the police, I left the two of them alone to run an errand! What the hell is happening to me?

Still, as though I'm under some sort of spell, I turn into the garage, find TJ's suitcase, and unzip the compartment he was talking in. I reach in and withdrawÉ

Oh Jesus. It's a fucking brand new bottle of poppers. I can't believe he wants to get high while he's doing this to my kid!

Still, I head back down to the den with my poppers and resume my position on the floor. Benji is now thrashing and moaning—no longer yelping and whining like he was before. It's weird noises; I've never heard him make them before. He kinda sounds like some weird cross between a howling monkey and a growling dog. It's way too weird and sexual of a noise for a kid his age to make.

I look back up to Wesley, and I immediately see why my kid's demeanor has changed. Now, in addition to TJ's pointer finger and middle finger, the man's thick, hot-dog-like index finger is now stuffed into my son's hole. The hole, by the way, has transformed from its adorable pink to an angry and swollen red. And still, I can't put a stop to this.

I reach out and hand TJ the poppers, but he shakes his head. "They're not for me," he says. Then he just looks down at Benji.

"OhÉoh my godÉ" I manage to get out, the first words I've said since this man started finger-fucking my only child. "You want—"

"If you want him to boygasm, he's gonna need them," TJ says, as though this whole thing was my idea.

I want to protest and tell him no, but instead I find myself staring down at my child as I shake the bottle, then unscrew the lid.

I know I keep saying this, but it's really just too easy. Like taking candy from a baby. Except, in this case, the "candy" is actually only a few years beyong being an actual baby himself.

I wait for a moment, as my new "friend" slowly lowers the brown bottle of the strongest poppers on the market down to his kid's nose. I hear him whisper what I think is the word "sorry" as he pinches one of the child's tiny nostirl's closed, then holds the bottle up to the other one.

"Take a deep breath," I instruct Benji, and he immediately follows orders. Like father like son.

I wait for a moment until his eyes get that swimmy look, and then I realize it's time. I reach in with my three fingers and find that soft, wet little button right behind his tiny nutsack. I poke it, prod it, and finally take it between my two fingers and try to pop it like a zit.

Benji

What's happening to me?!?! I can't think! I can't breathe! I feel dizzy and confused and—Oh my god! WHAAAAT?!?!"

Wesley

Jesus, I can't believe it. It's real, it's really happening. I've got my boy's head in my lap, stroking his red hair, as this man takes him up and over the edge. It's now very clear to me that TJ was right—boys Benji's age really can experience something like an orgasm.

I say something like an orgasm, because whatever my son is going through right now, it's not at all similar to the orgasms I have when I jerk off. His whole body is convulsing like he's having a seizure, and he's screaming so loud that there may as well not even be a used jockstrap in his little mouth.

He seems to be producing sweat at an alarming rate, and I realize that though he's not able to produce cum, the term "dry orgasm" simply doesn't describe this. Because Benji is instantly soaked from head to toe, as if he just ran a triathlon.

His beautiful, bright orange hair is now a wet, darkish red, and it's matted to his wet and pale forehead. I can't even see the beautiful greens of his eyes, because they're rolled back in their sockets, as though he's a boy possessed.

And still, even as I'm having all these thoughts and observing all this, the boy continues to convulse. When will it end?

"Seventy-five second!" I say proudly as I yank my fingers out of the quivering hole. "That's pretty good. The first one is always long, but not usually more than a minute! Way to go, Benji!"

I smile at Wesley, who's now just patting his boy as the child comes down from his orgasm. Then I stand up and begin to jerk my cock, allowing him to stare at me.

He doesn't move or anything, just watches me while reaching down and removing the jock strap from his son's mouth. It looks like Benji's finally coming down from his little boygasm.

"Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-" is all the boy can say, like a fucking broken record. It's annoying, but it's also adorable. And it's also what sends me over the edge.

I EXPLODE in a huge load, and it rains down on the two figures below me. It's such a powerful shot that only a few drops hit Benji—a couple on his forehead and a big, sloppy one on his nose. I think he might have caught one in his stuttering mouth, though I can't be sure.

The vast majority of it, howeverÉ

Wesley

I can't believe it. As if watching my son get violated and then turned on right in front of me wasn't enough, I'm having a new first tonight: I'm feeling the cum from another man. On my fucking face.

I don't know why I'm frozen there, but it's like I'm being sprayed with an assault rifle. As my kid pants in my lap, I take a big rope of cock snot across the face, then another in my hair, and two more on my face. The last three land on my chest, and I can't believe the strong scent of it, the quantity, the viscosity. In this one jerk off session, it's like TJ has coaxed more cum out of his balls than all of my previous orgasms combined.

And still, I can't move. I can only listen.

"Listen, buddy," Wesley says, ignoring the fact that he just splattered me and my son with his semen. "After an experience like this, kids can beÉfragile. He is going to bond with me now—after all I gave him his first boygasm. Shoulda probably mentioned this, but it's kind of like a chick with its mother hen. Little boys get a tad obsessed with whomever brings out their first boygasmÉ"

It should have been me! I want to scream, but I can only nod and watch as TJ bends down and picks up my son.

It's so true, what he said. Without questioning it or saying anything, my son leeches onto him. It's incredibly obscene, seeing my little boy, cummy face, his choo-choo PJ shirt still drenched, completely naked from the waist down, wrapping his white little body against the extremely tall and muscled, almost black body of this strange and sick and wonderful man.

"So, uh, look, we're gonna take the master bedroom. There's some shit on the bed in the garage—you can just move it to the side if it's in your way. I'm pretty beat, and I think Benji is too, so we'll see you in the morning."

"Wh-wh-wh-" my son is still trying to spit out.

"But—but—but—" I try to spit out. But I can't say anything as I watch this big negro carry my pride and joy, my only son, up the stairs and out of my sight.

I'm left there, alone, listening to the sound of my child's favorite movie play.