Date: Sat, 2 Jul 2011 16:22:10 -0700 From: Zack McNaught Subject: Making Him Mine (M/b(13), anal) Disclaimer: NOT my usual fare! If you're tuning in to read a love story, forget it. This is about a cold, hard, possessing fuck between a man and a thirteen year old boy. It is short and to the point (just how I like little dicks!), and I wrote it to get myself off. Hope you enjoy it anyway. Cheers, Zack P.S. Please donate to keep Nifty running. Many authors give countless hours of their time to write stories for your enjoyment. As a way of saying thanks for all their hard work, please help to keep Nifty open, and keep it free: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. Thanks. Making Him Mine, aka Fuck His hole gaped slightly, still loose from the penetration of my fingers. Its redenned rim was a reminder that this wasn't normal for him, that this wasn't easy, but as he knelt on all fours in front of me, slender ankles and feet sticking out over the edge of the bed, I resolved to fuck him anyway. He had asked, had wanted to know what it felt like, had insisted that he was old enough. The damn boy had even done his research, and informed me that, at the age of thirteen (and three days!) he was old enough to have sex if he lived in Spain. I hadn't taken the time to halt our lovemaking to check up on his facts, but he rarely lied and hated to be proven wrong, so I suspected he told the truth. My dick throbbed in front of me, standing upright of its own accord, not needing the play of my fingers along its shaft to bring it to full hardness. I hadn't felt the inner rock hardness I now felt since I was a young boy, and that was because I was about to fulfil a fantasy I had long thought would never be realised. God, how I dreamed of fucking a boy, of feeling the tight ring of muscle retreating along the length of my shaft, of feeling the vice-like grip of his innards on my dick. I'd fucked a virgin girl once, and had some idea of what was coming, but this time it was to be the real deal. He was well lubed from all the KY I had pushed into his little hole. Even as I watched, a twitch of his colon sent a glob of it dripping down his perineum, across the wrinkled, hairless skin of his sack and off into the bedclothes with a silent splat. It was tinged brown, and for a moment I felt a little disgust for what I was about to do. Lust, though, is a foil for all other emotions, and I needed so badly to be in him that nothing would truly prevent me from attaining my goal. I walked up to the bed, smearing the last of the lubricant from my fingers onto the shaft of my dick, and with my left hand took hold of my manhood. My right I placed on his hip to steady him, as with my guiding hand I led my now-dripping tool to the entrance to his bowels. He jolted slightly as the tip of the pucker of my foreskin touched the wrinkled skin of his hole, but forced himself to relax back into me, arching his back until the closing hole grew a little wider. I pressed forward, lending my left hand to the effort of holding his hips in place, the tip of my dick seated so firmly in his hole that there was no need for its support. The tight ring of muscle at the entrance to him held onto my foreskin, peeling it back over my head as the blunt helmet pushed through into the boy's insides. When there was no more skin to pull back I paused, feeling the head and a fraction of the shaft embedded in the warmth of him. I heard him breathing heavily, panting almost, as if in agony, but there was no promised cry to halt if it became too much. I felt around his hips and into his smooth crotch for his dick, finding it soft, indeed shrivelled, the shaft retracted within him, his foreskin bunched over a shrunked head. No amount of working by my hand could reinvigorate it, and his balls were drawn tightly up in their sack as if in fear. He would be gaining little pleasure from our union, I knew, but he had asked, insisted almost, and I am only a weak boylover, not a superhuman. Contented to find my own pleasure and to take the coupling as his gift to me, I pushed froward again. Three inches of my rather slender dick were within him when I felt I could go no further. Indeed, there seemed little need, as what portion of me was within him was subject to such intense heat and pressure that I felt I would be overcome were any more of my shaft to enter him. I rocked my hips experiementally, shocked at the sight of his pucker stretched back out of him on the wihdrawal, and pushed deep inside the cleft of his arse on the forward stroke. This gentle fucking I kept up until something wondrous happened. With a deep sigh, I felt the muscles in his bowels give way fully, and sudenly he was loose. I surged forward, astonished to find myself buried to the fullest extent within him. I pulled back and thurst again, feeling an overwhleming sense of power as I plowed into him. This was it. This was the moment of my possession of him. I fucked him as I would fuck a girl, hard thrusts, my hips slapping loudly against his arse as I penetrated him to the maximum of my ability. I felt my orgasm building rapidly, but before it had a chance to surge over me I felt a wetness splashing against the inside of my thighs. I looked down, not bothering to slow the pace of my fucking, and saw little golden droplets being flung this way and that beneath us both. With a start, I realised that it was his piss, foced from his wildly bouncing dick by the intruder which raided his abdomen, pressing against his organs. I felt a pang of guilt, but it was washed from me instantly by the overwhelming, unstoppable sensations of my building climax. I pounded him as hard as I could as pleasure overtook me. Semen streamed from the tip of my manhood into the heat of his bowels, and yet I continued to thrust until it was forced out around my shaft, flung this way and that to mingle with the droplets of his urine which were already soaking into the sheets. With my last surging ejaculation I pushed so hard into him that we collapsed fromward onto the bed, my weight crushing him, my hips bending and twisting to force as much of myself into him as I could. He lay silently, half beneath me, only nodding when I asked him if he was ok. I smothered those parts of his face that I could reach with kisses, telling him how amazing he was, how much I loved him, what a great fuck he had been. He buried his face in the crook of his arm and said nothing. I had ruined him, and now I possessed him.