Date: Wed, 07 Feb 2024 05:30:11 +0000
From: d.praved.mann <d.praved.mann@proton.me>
Subject: Michael's Summer Visit - Ch. 3

MICHAEL'S SUMMER VISIT - Chapter 3
by d.praved.mann@proton.me

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Disclaimer again: Please don't do any of the things that these characters
do with a little boy. Taking away a boy's innocence should ONLY be done in
fantasy stories like this one. Just masturbate while you read this, and let
that satisfy your urges to be with little boys.


CHAPTER THREE


BY THE TIME MY SON MICHAEL'S mind-numbing body had finished filling me to
overflowing with his seed, little Chuck, still quiet underneath me, was
fast asleep. He must have been exhausted, because Michael cussed, cursed,
said very, very nasty things to me, called out, and moaned loudly while he
fucked my ass. Any normal person could not have slept through that.

Damn, my boy's organ was--like the rest of his hyper-muscular
body--huge. My eyes watered when he unhurriedly pressed his manhood into my
ass, inch by delicious inch. I wondered how many guys--and girls--he'd
ruined. My guess was, a lot. His sexual appetite was ravenous.... Yet it
totally appeared that he was more hot for me than he usually was, for
others.

He whispered the most erotic--downright obscene and lewd--words and
thoughts into my ear while he lay on top of me, slowly pushing himself
inside.

I thought I might come again inside the boy under me.

Michael's muscles lay on top of me, and his arms and legs surrounded me on
both sides. He was in total control now, and you have no idea what it's
like to have your own flesh-and-blood fucking his way inside you,
dominating you.

He kept pushing inside: "Dad, you have no idea how many times I've jerked
off to you.... I think the first time was when I was about ten. I locked
myself in the bathroom... it was just after I'd seen you get out of the
shower in your bedroom. I remember how fucking jacked you were--just as
buff and ripped as you are now. And I got a little boner just watching you
dry yourself off. You didn't seem to mind me watching, either. I think you
kinda showed off, and fuck I loved that. I had a kind of mini-orgasm... one
of those little-boy dry orgasms. Seeing your ripped body did me in. I've
masturbated to you ever since--all these years. And this... right now... me
laying on top of you and slowly fucking you while I hold you down... this
has always been my ultimate fantasy." He pushed inside more, then pulled
out.... He was taking complete possession of me.

When he got all the way in, and I cried out in wonderful anguish, he just
held himself there. GodDamn he was enormous inside me... and it
hurt. "Fuuuuck, Michael," I groaned. "Fuuuuuck! I love you so much!" He
flexed his cock inside me and I could feel it jump and move.

Damn I was going to be hopelessly sore after this. I'd bottomed for guys
before, but no one nearly as big as my own son. Fuuuuuuck this was the
extreme.

I could sense his glutes flex and relax as he got into a rhythm. For some
reason I became very aware of his giant upper arms surrounding me at my
ears. They bulged and hardened around my head, and it was such a high to
experience my boy exert such complete control over me.

"Dad... gonna..." he kept rocking his hips, flexing his ass to move his
cock inside me. "Fuck Dad... I'm inside you. I'm fucking my muscle
daddy...." Shit, he knew how to talk nasty. I can't even write down some of
the stuff he said, but needless to say, he was fucking IN to me... and into
the general idea of incest with me, obviously. The guy turned me on in
every single molecule of my trapped body.

Then his muscular physique tightened all around me. I could tell it was
time. I reinforced the shell of my body around Chuck, preparing for my
son's orgasmic onslaught.

His head moved away from my ear. I felt his body tighten even
more. Then... "Aannnngggggggghhhh!" he hollered and at the same time I felt
his mighty manhood practically explode inside me. I'm serious.... How was
this possible?! His orgasm nearly split me open with his initial
ejaculation. It was... it was a total-body, violent eruption. It wasn't
unlike the power hose I use to wash the driveway--and I felt like he was
going to take the paint right off the insides of my rectum.

I yelled in pain... "Aaaangh! Fuck Michael! Fuck, fuck fuck!" Shit it
hurt. But I'd endure all the pain in the world for this experience. It was
so fucking powerful to know I was giving him pleasure--ultimate pleasure,
it sounded like, from all the yelling he was doing, and the flexing and
squeezing his body was doing. The guy seemed almost out of control.

Then, like-son-like-father I guess. Because my shaft jumped to action, and
I started blasting my own semen into the boy again. He stirred, but only a
bit, groaning at the new deposits his little body was once again
receiving. I flexed my ass hard, pushing more and more of my jizz into the
boy. This flexing action... of my ass... gave Michael a tight, constricting
squeeze around his big cock, and he wailed with renewed pleasure.

Michael's ejaculations inside me increased in intensity! He pumped his dad
full of his jizz. And yes, I did sense it gurgling out of my ass around his
tree-trunk--his battering-ram of a cock. But then, my own semen was also
being forced out of Chuck's little hole. There was going to be a huge mess
of splooge on the bed.

I was one proud daddy. To think this dude came from my own body--my own
seed.... I had helped make him! And now he was filling me--to
overflowing--with his very own semen--his DNA was returning home from
whence it came. And all this was happening while his incomparable muscle
body held me tight, helpless, vulnerable, basically impotent compared to
his youthful virility....

"Fuck Dad," he panted as his orgasm started to subside. I still felt flex
after flex of his cock inside me. Even when he was totally done, there was
an occasional flex of his cock again, and I felt his rod tighten as he
squirted out a few post-orgasm deposits.

Now, he lay on top of me, basking in the afterglow of experiencing the
fulfillment of his life-long fantasy: finally fucking his dad. I had to
kind of reinforce my stance, making sure my elbows and forearms, against
the blankets, held me up enough so as to not crush little Chuck.

It occurred to me then, that even though this was the first time having my
son fuck me, it wasn't simply just us two here. Chuck was with us. And that
was amazing... fantastic.... But I looked forward to the time Michael would
take me--alone... just us two... in a way consummating our relationship as
father and son. Without anyone else in the mix... it would be an intimate,
sensual moment that I would forever cherish.

"Dad," he rasped into my ear. "I never want to pull out of you.... I want
to be with you, inside you like this, forever...."

That'd be fine with me, to be honest. I could lay here, under his warm,
hard, big muscle physique, enjoying my son on top of me, caressing me,
loving me, dominating me.

He thought for a moment, then added, "Except I can't fucking wait for you
to do this to me. I want to feel your hard cock press into my ass... I want
to feel you shove yourself into me... and than make me pregnant with my
little brothers. Shit, Dad, I can't believe we're together like this."

Was he trying to get me hard again? Because despite my 40 year age, I was
recovering faster than a teenager, what with this stud on my
backside. Yeah, I bet Michael could make the most hopelessly limp man in
the world as hard as a grain silo.

"Fuck dude," Michael continued. Damn, his voice! How had I not been
entirely pushed over the edge of lust just by the sound of his masculine,
resounding voice? "I want to be fucked by my father. I want my dad--the one
I've fantasized about all my life--to push his hard rod inside my
ass... and hold it there while he lays on top of me... and then I want to
feel... fuck, Dad... I want to feel you release your semen into me."




IT WAS SATURDAY, AND LITTLE Chuck's parents would be home
tomorrow. Fortunately for me, Michael's visit had about a week and a half
to go.

The three of us ate breakfast the next morning. Little Chuck was
quiet... but not sullen or withdrawn. I noticed him walking funny, and
shit... I could identify with that. Michael had done a fucking number on my
ass. And after the three of us had separated, Michael barely needed a quick
minute before he was roarin' to go with me again.

Last night had been entirely epic: "Dad," he'd said softly while I gently
pulled the bedcovers up around sleeping Chuck, "I want to sleep with you,
in your bed tonight."

I smiled and nodded. Michael's boner bounced with anticipation. Before we
slipped between my bed's sheets though, we took a shower together in my
ensuite bath. Good god of the Universe.... Taking a shower with my very own
son... lathering up his body, feeling all those hard mounds of muscle, and
then kneeling down and pulling his glass-hard erection into my mouth... it
was indescribable.

Michael was a bit surprised at the skill I possessed, and he moaned his
approval.  "Dad... fuck..." he groaned as I deep-throated him, down to the
root. "Shit! You've been holding off, dude!" (I loved it when he called me
Dude.) "Where the fuck did you learn to do this? Fuck! You must fuck
guys--adult men--all the fricking time!" He let his head fall back and the
water from the shower sluiced down his muscular terrain while I rotated my
head around his cock, giving my boy the ride of his life. I knew from past
"reviews" that I had a good, talented, satisfying throat. And it was
amazing to be able to use it on my own son now. I knew he'd probably never
experienced a blow job like I could give.

Feeling my own son shoot his cum down my throat exceeded every expectation
I'd had. The fantasy of it didn't come even CLOSE to the reality of
swallowing down his geyser of cum while he called out "Dad, Dad, Dad," and
I wrapped my uvula and my entire gullet around his manhood. Deep-throating
my boy was the ultimate sexual experience; he was the ultimate male. And he
loved feeding his dad his semen. Fucking shit, I was a goner for my
boy. Hearing his praise for my skill made me the proudest man on the
planet. Knowing that I could impress a young stud like him made me feel 20
years younger again.

When he'd returned the favor, and let me shoot my jizz down his throat, and
we were drying off in my bathroom, he asked me again, where I'd learned my
technique.

I grinned while I toweled off. "You think your Dad has what it takes, son?"

"Fuck, Dad. You are the best. Ever. I've never been sucked off like that
before."

I wanted to ask him how much experience he'd had. I envisioned frat boys
and college classmates coming to his dorm room every night. "Well, I guess
I may have fucked a few guys in my time," I smiled at him.

He laughed. "I'd say so."

"I learned from a guy... when I was about your age, actually... how to
really open up my throat, all the way down, so I could overcome the gag
reflex."

"Shit. You gotta teach me some of that, Dad. It was..." his eyes got
big... "It was fucking unbelievable! You could definitely teach me a thing
or two--for that matter, you could teach most of the guys from my dorm a
thing or two. I've never, ever had a throat wrap all the way around my cock
like yours did. Fuck, I'm getting hard again just thinking about how good
that felt."

I chuckled and hung up my towel to dry. Hearing his praise went straight to
my cock. "Thanks, son. We'll definitely have to schedule some training
sessions," I chuckled, and he grinned. "But shit, Mike... you jetted down a
fucking torrent of jizz into my throat. Fuck, son... I'm so full, I could
probably skip breakfast tomorrow."

He smiled. "You like having your boy gush his sperm down your throat, huh?
That felt good?"

I approached him; he dropped the towel he'd been using, and we embraced,
kissing with almost savage need. We made out like that for a long time, and
before we left the bathroom for my bed, we were both entirely, hopelessly
hard again.

Suffice it to say, the night in my bed--even though it got off to a late
start--was just hedonistic. Still, though, he didn't actually fuck me. We
spent most of the night kissing and fondling each other. I started teaching
him how to open his throat, but more lessons would definitely be
necessary. We were both exhausted from the three-way we'd had with Chuck,
and by 3AM I think, we were both sound asleep, me being surrounded by
Michael's big, strong arms.

Now, we were chowing down breakfast. (Seems Michael's jizz didn't satisfy
my need for actual food, after all.)

"Got any plans today, Dad?" Michael asked between sips of coffee. He wore
some long PJ bottoms, and no shirt. I'd told him he couldn't wear a shirt
in the house--outside too, for that matter--and I just had to shake my head
in disbelief every time I looked at my model-gorgeous 20-year-old
muscle-hunk son. He truly had a body that bested most bodybuilders even ten
years older than him. I didn't know how the kid did it.

I smiled and gave him a wink before saying, "Well, I definitely want to
just relax with you two and see what happens."

"Can we play video games?" Chuck's face lit up.

"You bet, bud," I smiled. "In fact, maybe we could do a version of Strip
Poker, but apply it to the TV games."

Michael's eyebrows raised three times with his smile.

"What's Strip Poker?" Chuck asked.

"I'll explain later," I said. "Do you have anything else you want to do
today Chuck?"

He took a bite of the pancakes Michael had made--Mike did know how to cook,
quite well actually, as long as his dad didn't distract him--then said, I
want to feel Michael's muscles." Then he sheepishly said, "And his penis
too." He gained some confidence, then added, "I wanna make it really hard,
and feel it all over."

"I have a game we can play about that too," I said. "It has to do with
eating ice cream. I think you both will like it."




WE'D TURNED OFF THE TV after a very successful game of "Strip Warcraft" and
I decided it was time for some ice cream.

I instructed Michael to remain naked (he'd lost the Strip Warcraft
game--who knew he was so bad at video games? You'd never think he spent
half of his teenage years playing that stuff, heh heh). I told him to lie
down on his back, on the couch.

When I returned from the kitchen with a few big bowls of vanilla, Michael
was sprawled out... his rippling body was on breathtaking
display--including his always-at-the-ready erection; he lay on his back,
smiling. He had his hands locked behind his head ad he grinned up at me;
his enormous arms bobbed and flexed, and with his torpedo resting on those
insane abdominals, the kid was the most mouthwatering example of robust,
fertile, brawny MAN you could ever imagine. He looked up at me with a
twinkle in his eye.

I stirred the first bowl of ice cream until it became soft (makes it easier
to apply).

Michael knew what was coming. He fulcrummed up his long shaft with his
thumb under it. I started applying the ice cream. "Damn, it's cold,"
Michael smiled. "Fuck, I wasn't ready for that."

"It's not gonna make you limp, is it?" I teased.

He winked at me and grinned. He flexed one big biceps and asked, "What do
you think, Dad?"

I spooned more on his cock, and it melted a bit on his warm, veiny
shaft... I spooned some more. Soon his tower of white was rich with the
sweet stuff. I turned to Chuck, who had his own set of wide eyes going, and
said, "Go ahead, Chuckles. Time for you to lick that lollipop, boy."

He willingly moved forward, kneeling next to the couch, right at Michael's
crotch. Michael kept his thumb buried in his pubes, at the base of his
organ, keeping it vertical, and Chuck stuck out his tongue and licked. He
giggled. "This is so fun! Can we do this all the time?"

"Sure, bud," Michael said. "I like having you lick my cock. It feels really
good."

The boy kept working, obviously having a great time.

Michael was too.... (Me as well!) Then Mike took his thumb away from the
base of his cock. "Why don't you just move it around and get everything on
your own, okay?" he encouraged Chuck. "You can lift it up, let it lay down
on my abs... whatever. You take charge, little bud."

"Okay," Chuck said, not pulling his attention away from his task. In a
minute the ice cream was gone. The boy looked up at me and asked, "Is there
any more?"

"You bet little guy," I said, grabbing another bowl. While I stirred it,
Michael took the boy and pulled him to his face. He held the boy's head in
place while the two of them kissed.

Michael moaned with pleasure, and once again his mighty phallus jumped and
moved in reaction to his enjoyment of the boy. Between slurpy kisses he
said to me, "Fuuuuuck Dad. I can't believe I'm doing this... with you
watching.... I want this boy so much." His boner trembled with his arousal.

The ice cream lasted for another ten minutes or so. I watched, hard as a
pipe, while Michael forced himself to not ejaculate, despite Chuck's
obvious effect on him. His cock jumped continuously. Chuck's lips and
tongue made good work of the task and Michael enjoyed every second of it.

I made a mental note to pick up some more ice cream on my next trip to the
store. When Michael's cock was clean, Chuck took it upon himself to use his
little hand to move my boy's sex organ to the side so he could lick up the
ice cream that had melted onto my guy's abdominal mountain ranges. He stuck
his little tongue into the deep crevasses between the mounds of ab muscle.

Michael rested his head back on the couch, his eyes closed,
groaning. Occasionally his big arms flexed at his sides when Chuck licked a
tender spot. Sometimes his entire body writhed in pleasure while Chuck's
tongue did it's work. Then the kid needed to clean up all the melted cream
that was saturating Michael's pubic hair. He leaned down and licked and
slurped, getting my boy's pubes nice and clean. Still, I figured a shower
was in store--for the two of them, for sure--because dried-up ice cream
could be kinda sticky.

The boy made sure to make one last pass on that gorgeous shaft, and balls
too. "Fuuuuuuck," Michael moaned. "Damn, Chuck, you can lick anywhere on my
body, whenever you want."

Chuck was encouraged. He smiled and kept licking, even when there was no
more dairy product to be ingested.

"Chuck, I hope it's okay... and I know it hurt a bit when my dad fucked you
last night on our bed... but shit... I'm gonna put my cock inside you
tonight. I can't tell you how much I want to do that--to show you how cute
I think you are by putting myself inside you, and to enjoy you under me."

"Okay. Your dad hurt a bit, but I'm okay. I just want you to remember that
I'm a little boy. Be careful."

"Fuck... I could never forget that you're a little boy," Michael
moaned. "That's what makes you so special to me. I love that I'm a lot
bigger than you, and that I get to take care of you... to keep you safe. It
makes me so happy."

Chuck smiled broadly. He was absently stroking Michael's erection as it lay
on his abs.

Michael picked the kid up and carried him into the bathroom, where they
would shower. Of course I followed them. I watched while Michael lathered
the boy up--and himself as well--and the two of them played and touched. It
was so awesome to watch muscular Michael hold little Chuck in his big arms,
fondling him, teasing him, caressing him. Chuck was in absolute heaven,
experiencing this loving, fun, intimate moment with his real-life hero. It
was a made-for-TV-hunk-and-little-boy movie... minus the "G" rating, of
course.




WE PLAYED SOME YARD GAMES that afternoon; Michael received permission (from
me) to throw on some short pants and a tank top. But that was about all I
could tolerate. It was a crime against humanity to cover up that
guy. Still, it was nice to be out in my large back yard while we played
games with Chuck.

After some more TV games and a movie, it was time for dinner. I ordered
pizza again. I had an idea this might be fun.

When the doorbell rang I asked Michael--who, per my instructions, had
stripped down to a g-string again.  So I asked him--in (almost) all his
glory--to get the door. "I ordered pizza again," I said. "If it's the same
guy as usual, I think you should be the one to answer the door, Michael." I
gave him a sly wink.

Mike hadn't taken the pizza yesterday, so I was looking forward to watching
the delivery kid react to my son's mega-body.

Michael stood up, smiling; he moved his tremendous physique in front of me,
he made a bee-line for the front door. I stood behind him about ten feet,
in the entry, and watched.

I ordered pizza from this place all the time, and nearly every time, the
delivery guy was the same dude... a really young high schooler. He was
fucking cute... pretty small, and not athletic. Maybe even a little
nerdy. Clearly not a jock. I'd seen the way he looked at my body; to be
honest, for being over 40, I was just as jacked as I'd been 15 or 20 years
ago, and I knew that look the kid gave. I was always turned on when the kid
looked at me, trying desperately to NOT look. So yeah... fuck I wanted to
see the delivery guy's reaction to my boy's gorgeous body. Obviously,
Michael's physique made mine look anemic in comparison.

"Pizza deliv--" the guy cut his words short when he glanced up from the
pizza boxes he was holding to see a nearly naked, jacked-and-ripped muscle
dude smiling down at him. "Holy shit..." he mumbled. His eyes couldn't help
but move all over Michael's exposed physique. I watched the boy turn white.

"Oh, thanks, man," Michael smiled. He reached into the small pouch of his
too-small thong thingy and pulled out two $20s and a $10 I had given him,
which he'd placed there as he'd approached the door. "Here you go. The
change is for you, man."

The dude took the bills, wide-eyed. He looked at them, then at the pubic
forest where Michael had retrieved them from, then at Michael's smiling
face. "Oh... wow... um..." He was visibly flummoxed." "Thank... thank you."
He paused, obviously unable to turn away, then blurted... "Fuck man. You
are fuckin' stacked! I've never seen anyone like.... Shit! Your abs... your
freaking arms are huge! I can't belie...." He couldn't finish.

"Thanks man. Are you in to bodybuilding?" If he was, the dude was only into
watching. He clearly was not developed at all. To emphasize his question,
Michael quickly handed me the pizza boxes then turned back to the delivery
kid (the guy had to have barely been old enough to get his driver's
license--pretty young). Michael lifted one enormous arm, and flexed his
striated, delineated, rippling biceps into an awe-inspiring Matterhorn of a
peak. Shit. Michael hadn't given me his stats or measurements (yet) but I'd
put money down that his arms were well above 20 inches... likely a lot
BIGGER than 21 even. And you gotta remember, my boy was only 20 years
old.... For a 20-year-old to have arms the size of his was unheard-of. And
fuck... the rest of his body was just as mind-blowing as his arms, for
sure.

The kid at the door watched with a sagging jaw while Michael held his
flexing arm in front of him. Shit, my boy's biceps peak was unREAL.

"What do you think, man?" Michael taunted.

"Fuuuuuuck, dude." The guy was breathing hard now. He was in awe--and I
suspected more than just a little turned-on. And then I saw it. The kid
adjusted himself at his crotch. He'd tried to be inconspicuous about it,
but... yeah, I'd seen it.

Bingo.... Boner alert for sure.

"Thanks, man. I appreciate it. I'm kind of a show off at heart, so...."
Mike lifted his other arm and blasted the kid's psyche with a double-bi
pose. Then he stepped really close to the guy and like, only inches away
from him, morphed his body into a most-muscular pose that was just
stupefying, to be honest. I was so fucking hard watching Michael send the
kid into a muscle-induced coma. The most-muscular showed off my boy's
veiny, vascular, striated physique, and I don't know who was more
impressed, me or the delivery dude.

"Fuuuuuuu..." the kid was numb with awe--and from the look of his pouch and
his having to keep touching it... lust, too. I didn't get a real good look
at it, but from what I saw of his package, it seemed the dude was more
endowed than his slight build might have called-for.

Michael relaxed. "Thanks man." As he started to close the door he stopped
himself and re-opened it all the way. The kid hadn't even moved. Michael
took a step outside and pressed his nearly nude body against the guy. Then
he leaned down and gave the dude a long, apparently wet kiss (it was loud
and slurpy-sounding).

I could not believe the fucking gonads my son had... to do this to a
complete stranger. But then, I got the idea that Michael knew how to read
guys.

Michael pulled back from his kiss and said, "That's the rest of your tip
man. Thanks again." Then he asked, "Oh, what's your name, dude?"

"Trent," the guy's voice trembled. He looked entirely spaced out--like he
belonged on Uranus more than on Earth. (Yeah sorry for the Uranus pun.)

"Cool, man. We eat pizza here a lot. I'll remember to ask for you next time
we get delivery." He smiled at the kid, then added, "and hey... since
you're into bodybuilding, maybe we can hook up sometime, you know? I'm
always looking for dudes who can help me with my posing routine, you know?"
He was all kinds of friendly--even disarming--to the kid... like you know,
they were just two cool jocks who shared the same interest in a sport. Of
course, Michael was a guy who enjoyed bodybuilding; this Trent dude was
more likely a guy who enjoyed bodybuildERS.

"Yeah... I mean... okay... um... okay... cool."

Michael stepped back into the entryway and closed the door.

I was grinning (and adjusting myself too) as I said, "Michael, you are the
worst. So devious. I bet that kid is out in his car right now jacking off."

"I hope so," Michael said. "You still have cameras under the eaves by the
garage don't you? Let's take a look at the video later, okay?"

Fuck, he was the best. So amazingly confident and fun.




IT WAS ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE to eat dinner. I was so packed with sexual
excitement, it took all my restraint to not start masturbating under the
table. I watched Michael and Chuck enjoy each others' company, and the
anticipation of what was to come drove me nuts.

Michael was finally going to get his prize tonight: Chuck. Fucking the
boy. First, though, we'd decided that I'd get to open the kid up again and
fill him up with my jizz.... Kind of like an opening act at a concert. Then
right after that, with Chuck still on the bed, Michael would get to step up
to the plate and do his thing... with my semen already inside Chuck's
rectum, which would provide my son with lube.

"Fuck, Dad," Michael kept saying, "I can't wait to feel your jizz surround
my big cock when I push into the boy."

Michael and I gave Chuck his bath tonight, and we both took turns lathering
his little genitals up. Chuck was having fun, and didn't seem to be worried
about the pending invasion of his little body by two grown men--the second
man's organ being quite a bit bigger than the first's.

We took turns soaping up his privates... a few times each, and Chuck was as
hard as a pencil after having two muscular men play with him like
that. Sometimes Michael gave Chuck a nice long kiss. And I should have
predicted this, but at one point, Michael pulled his thong thing off and
added some water to the tub, then slipped in with the little boy--who
spontaneously began to soap up my son's body. And of course, Michael's
Tower of Power was fully hard for the kid to lather it up and make sure it
got nice and clean too.

It was a long bath. Michael and I made out while Chuck stroked the big
guy's shaft, and when my face felt Michael's breathing through his nose
increase in speed and intensity, I figured we'd better get out and dry off
before the stud blew a gasket.

In Michael's room, we lay Chuck on the bed, on his stomach again, like last
night. I lubed him up with my fingers and a bunch of gel. Chuck was patient
and quiet, aside from a few moans; he did seem to enjoy the stimulation
from my fingers. The kid was going to grow up to be a sex whore. And since
he was my neighbor boy, I was planning on doing everything I could to help
him achieve that goal.

I was so hard, it hurt. Remembering the sheer enjoyment of taking the boy
last night, I was near the edge of cumming the entire time I prepped him. I
was looking forward to putting my cock inside Chuck's little hole almost as
much as I was looking forward to having Michael fuck me.

Michael stroked the boy's body, lying close to him, whispering encouraging
things into his ear, telling him how much he loved him, and how much he was
looking forward to fucking the boy after I got him ready with my cock.

Then it was time. I straddled Chuck's little legs and looked down while
Michael once again pulled the kid's ass cheeks apart. The sight of the
little boy's soft, creamy ass, Michael's masculine, long fingers, and my
own long, wet, throbbing boner was so fucking hot.

My initial penetration wasn't much easier than the previous time; Chuck
moaned and wriggled while he tried to endure my violation.

I'd kinda thought I'd have better control tonight than last night... but
no. The anticipation was off the scale. And I started filling the boy only
seconds after I started in on a rhythm. "Fuuuuuuuck," I hollered while my
tight cock released its torrential flood.

Minutes later I was on my haunches, looking down, watching my veiny cock
pull out... slowly. God this was amazing. Chuck groaned in a slow
rhythm--almost like he was a Tibetan monk doing a chant. As I pulled out
some of my semen gurgled out too, and I tried to push as much as I could
back inside him.

I scooted aside and gave my son complete access to the boy.

Michael surprised me. "Hey, bud," he said softly as he effortlessly lifted
the kid's limp body off the bed, "I want you to face me while I do this,
okay? Let's roll you onto your back." I saw the fire in Michael's eyes when
he looked down on the passive boy with lusting anticipation. "Yeah," his
voice was turning raspy. Fuck he looked like he wanted to EAT the
kid. "This'll be better, buddy. I want to be able to look into your eyes
while I push inside you... I want to be able to kiss your face... all over
you... and tell you how much I love you."

Chuck came out of his trance and his eyes grew while he took in the image
of the huge muscle man who looked down on him. He was definitely in awe of
Michael, but his eyes also showed a contentment... trust... that's what it
was... complete trust. The boy knew Michael loved him, and would take care
of him. There was utter confidence and love on his face. He wanted this
because his muscle-hero wanted to show Chuck how much he loved him.

I was totally gone. My cock throbbed while I watched Michael lean down and
begin kissing the boy. My son's big shaft rubbed up and down over Chuck's
little penis and balls, and farther up, over the boy's abdomen. Mike was so
big that his organ basically ran the entire length of the boy's torso.

Michael gently kissed Chuck, whispering, "I love you so much, buddy. I'm so
excited... I'm honestly ready to start squirting right now--just looking at
you, all comfortable, waiting for me to love you.... Fuck, little bud, I
just want to love you so much."

One of Michael's hands was pushing more and more lube into the boy's
sphincter while he said sweet things into the boy's ear.

I saw Michael's enormous, veiny cock tremble with his excitement over
having sex with this little boy. The two of them kissed for a long time,
and I knew Michael was trying to get the kid to relax all the way. I could
only imagine the sacrifice Michael was making to ensure that Chuck was as
ready as possible. Yet, of course, this foreplay with the boy was no
sacrifice at all. It ramped Mike up to no end... as it did his
father. Michael's great arms bulged while he cupped Chuck's face and head
with his hands. Damn, Michael's arms were a shrine to physical strength.

Finally, Michael said softly to Chuck: "Okay, I'm going to pull back for a
minute..." He lifted his body, in preparation to aim his weapon. And
forgive me for this... but yes, Michael's shaft was indeed going to be a
weapon of ass destruction tonight.

Chuck actually looked disappointed--needy and scared. His little arms flew
up, and he grabbed my son's enormous guns with his little hands,
desperately needing Michael to stay close.

"It's okay," Michael comforted. I just need to point my cock at your hole
now... so I can go inside you... okay? I'm not going anywhere, little
buddy."

Chuck nodded, relaxing.

"I'll be right here, Chuck. I'll lay down on top of you while I push
inside. We're both going to love this, okay?"

"Okay. I trust you, Michael. And I want you to push your cock inside me."
Chuck was using more slang words now.

Could this get any hotter? At all?

The oversized triceps on one of Michael's arms bulged and tightened while
he propped himself up with that arm, using his other hand to aim his cock,
and firmly set it in place against Chuck's undulating hole. I watched with
awe while my son maneuvered himself... and Chuck's little cherry
flexed... involuntarily opening and closing in anticipation of the
invasion.

"Fuuuuuuuck," Michael moaned while his eyes closed and his cock head
affixed itself to the boy's hole. He slowly leaned down, clam-shelling the
boy with his mighty, wide back. Then he pushed... just a bit. I saw his
to-die-for, taut glutes ripple and flex as he applied pressure.

Chuck groaned.

Fuck, I kinda felt sorry for the kid. You ain't felt nothin' yet, son. I
actually couldn't imagine how Michael was going to be able to fit. His
manhood made ME cry out in pain. How would this little boy be able to
accept it?

Michael's body tightened and he pushed... harder this time. He wanted--no,
needed--to get inside the kid.

Chuck WAAAILLLLED, and Michael pinned the boy's hands down above his head,
with just one of his own. Still, the boy fought. Still, my boy pushed. With
a scream from Chuck, Mike pressed, and I watched intently while my son's
purple cock head jammed itself inside. If I thought Chuck's ass was tight
before, I could only imagine the pleasure Michael was experiencing at this
moment... having that impossibly small tunnel surround and squeeeeeeze
around my boy's equally impossibly large shaft....

Chuck's little legs--previously splayed wide--kicked while he fought
against the onslaught. He yelled and cried. He slipped his hands from
Michael's grip; his legs and his arms thrashed while he fought against
Michael's elephantine size.

This act of severe penetration--forcing Michael's enormous shaft into that
tiny hole--seemed to defy the laws of physics.

"It's okay, little buddy," Michael comforted. "The hard part is over
now. I'm inside now. You're such a brave little boy, to take me like this."

It was difficult to hear Mike's exact words over Chuck's vehement
objections and cries. "It huuuuuuurrrrtttssss," he groaned and
fought. Michael did not move. Chuck did not quiet down. For a minute I
wondered if Michael might have to pull out, just to give the kid some
relief. But he did not. So Chuck continued to cry.

Michael was patient. I knew how much he wanted to just shove all the way
inside; the boy was such a sexual turn-on for my son.... The restraint he
was applying had to be killing him.

While Chuck wailed, Michael started to run his fingers through the kid's
hair... he even began to pick at little curls or mats that needed tending;
it looked like a big ape, grooming its young... or perhaps holding its
prey--preparing its helpless, terrified meal.

After some minutes of this, the little boy started to quiet down. Well,
"quiet down" might be a stretch (literally, considering the stretch he was
enduring), but at least his crying wasn't getting worse. At some point he
moved into an active whimpering stage... still not in any way comfortable,
but at least starting to respond to Michael's soft encouragement in his
ear.

"I'm so sorry, little trooper. You are so brave. And I promise it'll get
easier. I'm going to stop pushing in for a minute so you can accept it
better... give you a bit of a break."

"I want it ooouuttttt. It's too biiiiiiiggg," Chuck cried.

"Oh bud. I'll hold very still, okay? Can I kiss you on the lips for a
minute? I bet that'll make you feel better."

Between groans, I heard little Chuck say, "O--okay." He started to gulp in
breaths, like kids do when they're trying to stop
crying. Hup... hup... hup.... It was adorable.

Michael brought his mouth to the boy's and then began long minutes of
kissing and making out. I watched Mike's enormous shaft remain still, with
clearly six or seven inches of it still outside the boy's body. GodFuckMe!
If this was supposed to give the kid a break, it certainly did nothing to
settle ME down: watching my muscle son rest his enormous, jacked body on
top of Chuck, with his gorgeous, veiny cock partially lodged inside the
boy, but most of its length still outside him... I imagined what Michael
was feeling on the tip of his cock--that tight tunnel must have been
squeezing that thing so hard! Fuck.

Michael kissed, cooed, and comforted the boy for about as long as he could,
it seemed. At some point, I saw Michael's body tighten. He needed to go in
farther. He'd reached the limit of his ability to hold off. I could almost
feel the desperation my son felt--the sheer need to shove himself in to the
hilt.

Without warning, he pressed his thick shaft in another inch. Chuck wailed
again. But Michael only paused for a moment. He pushed yet another inch
inside the kid.

Chuck was not liking this; he was full-on crying and wailing again--even a
few out-and-out high-pitched screams. Certainly, though, he was the only
one out of the three of us who was having a problem with it. Me--I was back
to full-hardness and I was sloshing my wet hand up and down my cock while I
watched my son force his mighty phallus inside farther and farther.

Michael covered Chuck's mouth with his own, and he shoved in a few
inches--about half of what was left of the exposed part of his cock. Chuck
yelled into Michael's mouth, and his little arms were flailing.

Michael was trembling almost uncontrollably now. I thought he was going to
start emptying into the kid any second.

But he didn't. He just kept pressing in more... and more.... Finally, I
watched--peering at the nearly consumed cock as Chuck's writhing body
swallowed it--as Michael's trimmed pubic hair finally pushed firmly against
the kid's ass.

Michael was all the way in.

Seriously, I wondered how Chuck had endured it--not that he had much of a
choice. Still, remembering the serious length--not to mention girth--of
Mike's shaft, I marveled at how my son had actually penetrated the boy's
body all the way. Inside that abdominal cavity, the tip of Michael's cock
had to be up near the boy's friggin' heart!

Michael's glutes quivered. He was pressing, uncontrollably. Chuck was not
quieting down anytime soon.

Michael's colossal body completely covered--hid--the boy now; Chuck was
almost nowhere to be found.

I wondered how long Mike would wait--could wait--until he had to start
thrusting. For now, his indescribably hard and bulging physique covered the
boy. Michael moaned into Chuck's mouth, and it was then that I realized the
boy had miraculously settled.

Michael lifted his lips off Chuck and cooed, "You are so brave, Chuck. I
love you so much."

Chuck cried, sucking in air--in tearful gulps again.

"I'm all the way in now," Michael comforted. "You should start feeling
better soon."

Chuck moaned. "It really huuuurts. Don't move, okay? It hurts when you move
it."

I wondered how that would work out for the kid.

Michael did hold still, but not nearly as long as Chuck apparently wanted,
because as the man started to slowly buck his hips, thrusting in and
out--slowly--the boy yelled out again. But Michael didn't--or
couldn't--stop. "Fuuuuuck," he moaned, "fuck, Dad, feeling your jizz inside
him... surrounding and lubing up my cock... fuck Dad... I can't
stop. I... can't... control...." Moving his shaft only centimeters in and
out of the boy's anus it was obvious Michael... was... there.

Just those slight movements--not even an inch in, then out--was all it
took.

My son's entire body flexed into some kind of alien being that was
comprised only of hard, rippling, undulating, pulsing, cement-like,
steel-reinforced muscle. His skin contracted around every bulge on his
body, and for a moment it looked like he HAD no skin: just lumpy mounds of
insanely delineated, striated, rippling muscle.

Holding Chuck tightly, he looked as if he might crush the kid with his
out-of-control strength. He lifted his head up, opening his mouth into a
silent scream.

Fuuuuuuuck.

He froze, with his mouth open, holding on to that out-of-body moment where
pure, intense pleasure meets the insanity of the most extreme passion
imaginable.

I heard something from deep within Michael's body click... or
move... or... something. Like a pop or crack--in his mouth.... It was
indeed a silent scream. Michael's mouth was open; his eyes scrunched
closed. His face contorted into the most intoxicating combination of pain
and pleasure you could imagine. He was eating the lotus. A soft, helpless
cry squeaked out of his mouth.

Some cartilage--(or bone? It sounded like when someone cracks their
knuckles)--popped inside Michael's massive body. The room was entirely
quiet except for the distorted, guttural sounds my son's body started to
make... as he began....

"Aaaannnnnnrrrrrrgh!" he yelled, filling the room with curses and
expletives. Good thing we didn't live in an apartment; the police would
surely have been called.

His body gave one, hard jerk, and thus commenced the most unrestrained,
indulgent, all-encompassing orgasm ever.

Chuck wailed again; I could only imagine what the oversized rocket ship
inside him was doing--tightening, expanding, hardening, and of course,
shooting.

Another whole-body jerk brought what was obviously Michael's second
ejaculation. His mighty, swollen, steel-cabled arms tightened; he held
himself as still as possible, but that wasn't very still at all. His body
vibrated with the lustful expression of his out-of-control climax.

He ejaculated for a long long time.

I watched Michael's ass flex while he plowed the boy. GodDamn it was beyond
the pale. And when Mike's jizz started to squirt--hard--out of the boy's
hole... along with some of my own, I'm sure... I lost it totally again.

My cock squeezed into orgasm, and I pointed it into the air. I aimed it so
my semen would land on my son's back and glutes. I crouched down a bit, and
sprayed underneath his ass, onto-and-around his gigantic cock, providing
even more lubrication for him to fuck the boy into oblivion.

After a few minutes, an occasional cry or whimper was the only indication
that the child under Michael was still alive.

Fortunately, Chuck survived. Quite well, actually--despite the pain. Oh,
and Michael survived as well; you just couldn't destroy that physique. As
for me, my survival seemed in question, to be honest. Even if I didn't
actually die physically, I feared that emotionally and mentally I had been
relegated to perhaps end up as merely an apparition. A ghost--a
specter--showing myself only when my son orgasmed in the future. What a
fantastic entrance into the next life, no?

I did survive to remain in this realm, however. And for the next few days
while Chuck stayed with us, and Michael and I began a new chapter in our
relationship, the two of us--and the three of us--experienced what I could
only describe as the closest thing one can come to... nirvana.


-------

Relax: This is not the end of this story.

Thanks for your support. I may not be able to answer all emails, but I DO
so much love hearing how my stories affect you. :) d.praved.mann@proton.me