Date: Wed, 31 Dec 2014 12:21:24 +1000 From: Jeff Albertson Subject: thrice in one day Thrice in one day a story by plantagenet Disclaimer: Not suitable for minors. All events and people described herein are fiction. Read at your own risk. (Spoiler alert!) May contain intergenerational gayness. Author's note: Please consider making a donation, however modest it may be, to the Nifty Archive. It must cost money to maintain, and we all get pleasure out of it, so perhaps we should all think about coughing up a dollar or two (or euro/rouble/ whatever). I've done it, in addition to donating my stories. I'm sure you can help. Thrice In One Day So, there I was sitting at a small table in the coffee shop at the food court in the mall where I do my grocery shopping. I once heard about some research that suggested that when people shop for food on an empty stomach (i.e. no breakfast), they tend to buy more than they need. I kinda figured there was probably some truth in this, hence my stop at the coffee shop for a cuppa and a doughnut before facing the supermarket aisles. Honestly, I couldn't even remember whether he was already there or not when I sat down, but it wasn't long before I noticed him. A boy. He was sitting with an older couple, grandparents, I guessed, and as his lap was below the level of the table, they could not see what he was doing - but I could, as I was sitting in the next table across. What the boy was doing was obvious to any male older than 6 - he was playing with himself. He had one hand in the pocket of the loose-fitting tracksuit pants that he wore, and was apparently masurbating in public. His grandparents were completely oblivious, and the boy was also oblivious of me - I think. He varied the speed and stroke, but that's definitely what he was doing. He seemed too young to me to be so thoroughly engrossed in this action; I thought it was an activity more beloved of boys who had already hit puberty and realised how much fun their cock could be. This little fellow was in my estimation no more than 9 or 10. Or perhaps a poorly nourished 11 at best. After flogging his dick for a few minutes he stopped and withdrew his hand. Then, bizarrely, began to lick it! Not really lick, it was more like kissing with tongue. He had closed his hand into a fist, and appeared to be French kissing the little space between thumb and index finger. I had never seen that before, and let me tell you, I've seen some weird shit. His cute little pink tongue carefully slithered out between his lips to poke at the tiny indentation, all the while watching his oldies, who of course could see nothing of this, the boy's mouth being hidden behind his fist. After a minute or so of lingual passion, back his hand went into his pocket for round two. I decided I'd better get up and get shopping before I popped wood myself and caused embarassment, so I drained my cup and finished off the last morsel of doughnut, and left for the supermarket. Like most people who don't use a shopping list, I grabbed a trolley and just wandered up and down the aisles, pulling assorted items from the shelves out of some vague recollection of what I had (or thought I had) in my fridge and pantry. Imagine my surprise when I saw the very same boy from the coffee shop again! He was going in one direction, up the canned vegetable aisle, as I was travelling along the same aisle, but in the opposite way. The older couple was still with him, they seemed to be the ones doing the shopping. It gave me a chance to have a closer look at the boy while he was in a standing position. The boy wasn't particularly handsome, to me anyway. His neck was quite long, and his face somewhat plain. Shaggy blonde hair, from what I could see of it under his sleeveless hoody. But he was a boy, around eleven at most as I guessed previously, now that I could see him upright. Rather skinny, with baggy clothing covering everything except the lower part of his arms. Very thin arms, I thought at the time. Almost girlish. Complete absence of musculature. What capped it off for me was that as he capered along between the stacks of tinned goods, he had one hand touching just about every item on all the shelves that he could reach, and the other playing a continuation of the game of pocket billiards that he had commenced in the coffee shop. Hell, I didn't begrudge him that - a boy's gotta get his fun somewhere, right? His folks were absorbed in their shopping tasks, ignorant of the boy's pleasuring of himself. It's funny how sometimes a boy can act as though nobody can see him, and even funnier that parents can be so preoccupied with what they are doing that they don't even realise what their boy is doing with his dick right in the full view of dozens of passing shoppers. So, I left him to it. I collected the last of my groceries, and made my way to the self-serve checkout. I never expected to see that boy again, just one of those fleeting, chance encounters that a boylover has and files away in his memory banks for enjoyment on some lonely night in the future. God knows there are enough of those. Returning hime, I had just finished storing my purchases in the pantry and fridge when my doorbell rang. I wasn't expecting anybody, but as I left the kitchen I cruised by the den to make a quick check of my computer to ensure nothing incriminating was visible on-screen before opening my front door. It was the boy from the supermarket! "Hello again" I greeted him. He greeted me with a grunt of confusion. "Huh?" I smiled broadly as I stepped out my doorway and joined the youngster on my front porch. "You were in the supermarket earlier today, with your folks, I'm guessing. Doing the weekly grocery shopping, presumably" I added. "I was doing my shopping there too" The boy shook his head a little, making his longish hair wave around. He still wore the same baggy tracksuit pants he was wearing in the supermarket, but the hoody had now gone and his torso was covered by a long sleeveless basketball shirt, a big improvement in my opinion as it left his shoulders bare as well as his arms, not to mention the sides of his ribcage. "They ain't my parents - they're my foster carers, Bill and Glenda", he explained, but without any trace of rancour. "Oh, I'm sorry, my mistake. I didn't mean anything by it", I reassured the boy. Kids can sometimes react badly when you get important details like that wrong, even when there's no way you could have known. "No prob" the boy replied casually. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today?" I asked, because the boy appeared to forget that it was he who rang my doorbell and was now standing on my porch without any explanation. "Oh! Right! Uh, I'm, uh, selling these membership packs for our soccer team, see, we play at Memorial Field every Saturday, and we're trying to raise money for, uh, stuff we need. Uniforms and training stuff, like." The boy looked me in the face as if daring me to turn him down. But I'm a sucker for that kind of thing (and for boys in general, of course) so there was no way I was going to send him off empty-handed. Before I caved in to his beguiling sales pitch, I wanted to hear his sweet voice some more. "Soccer gear, eh? And you guys play at Memorial, huh? So, what do I get for my money?" I moved to the double seated swing chair and sat down. I patted the space beside me, inviting my new little friend to join me. Sensing a sale, he quickly sat alongside me. "Well", he began brightly, I suspect having memorised this part, "you get entry to the ground every Saturday, and exclusive seating right behind the reserve benches on half-way. You get the weekly magazine which gives player profiles and other useful information; if you choose, one of the reserve players can sit with you at each game and point out how soccer is played if you're not familiar with the game, and you get to attend all the team functions, including the end-of-year cookout." "Hey, preferred seating, sounds great. But, uh, isn't it free admission to Memorial anyway?" I gently chided him. He looked down at his shoes for a moment. "Well, yeah, but...there's the magazine, only subscribers get that! And admission to the team social functions!" I rubbed my chin as though I was thinking. Of course, I had already decided to spend some money on whatever cause the boy was espousing, in the hope of getting to know him better. I wondered whether 'team functions' included joining the boys in the showers after the game - maybe it did? Unexpectedly, the boy chose that moment to introduce himself. "Uh, my name's Justin", he explained, holding out his right hand to shake. I took it eagerly, and had to hide my grin when I felt the weakest handshake I'd had for many a year. It was like shaking hands with an ageing spinster aunt. I held his limp hand as long as I could. I guess I really wanted to see whether he would pull it away. What made it even more fun for me was that I knew this as the hand he had been wanking with earlier. I tried a second conversational gambit. "So, what position do you play? I bet you're a defender!" I coaxed, still holding the boy's seemingly boneless fingers. Justin looked away (in shame, I wondered?) for a moment before answering me. "I, uh, usually sit on the reserve bench", he muttered, but brightened up a little when he added "but Coach says I'll be ready to go on the field real soon!" "Benched, eh? Well, that's good, because that means you'll be able to sit with me when I come to watch, and explain to me all about soccer. That's what you said subscribers got, right?" Justin's face brightened - whether at the prospect of making a sale, or of sitting with me rather than on the reserves bench, I didn't know - but I was hopeful. "Sure!" he answered eagerly. "It's a date, then - next Saturday?" I urged, and Justin beamed a smile at me that lit up his narrow face and made the cutest dimples in his cheeks. "Great!" he answered, fumbling among his sheaf of papers for the correct forms for me to fill in. "Tell you what", I suggested, as though the idea just occured to me (although I had been plotting it for some minutes), "you get the paperwork ready for me to sign, and I'll go get my wallet - and how about a glass of lemonade? - it's pretty warm out here". In fact, it was barely 70 degrees, and the most generous description would have been 'mild' rather than 'warm', but I wanted to test whether Justin was amenable to accepting a treat from me. It would make seducing him a lot easier if he readily took refreshment from a comparative stranger. "Sure!" he grinned as he nodded his head vigourously. I entered the house and grabbed my wallet, then raced to the kitchen to grab a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and collect two glasses. I simply could not resist peeking through my front curtains at the boy sitting on my porch, to see what he was doing while I was in the kitchen, and was pleasantly surprised when I saw him jacking himself off again! His hand was back in his pocket causing the front of his tracksuit pants to bob up and down. I got the feeling he almost wanted to get caught doing it! "Here we go!" I declared as I struggled out the front door with wallet, glasses and pitcher. Justin quickly pulled his hand away and leapt up to assist (as I hoped and expected he would), and between us we got the whole lot down on my patio table without breaking or spilling anything. I poured the skinny boy a drink and one for myself. "Down the hatch!" I clinked glasses with him, and pretended to drink a large swig. Justin, exhibiting the recklessness of youth, did likewise, then almost choked on the large volume of very cold liquid I had served him. "Whoa there, kiddo!" I leapt up to pat him on the back, first getting both our glasses safely down onto the table. As the boy coughed and spluttered, I ran my other hand up under the front of his singlet to warm up his chest (but also to feel him up). To my astonished delight, Justin appeared to enjoy both of my hands on his flesh, back and front. He writhed with pleasure as my hands comforted him from the chilly blast of lemonade on oesophagus. "Oh, I am so sorry, Justin, I must have made that too cold for you! Here, come inside and lie down on my couch, you'll be right as rain in a few minutes". At this point, most boys would have said 'no, thanks!' and high-tailed it for the nearest policeman or other authority figure. But Justin allowed me to guide him inside and lie him down on my living room sofa, still coughing a little. Naturally, I wasted no time in reaching up under his shirt to rub his chest - I can't imagine what beneficial effect the boy thought this might have, but he allowed it, and even seemed pleased by it. Justin's coughing fit eased off, so I suggested to the boy that if he turned over I could do his back as well. Without even the barest hint of a murmur of disagreement he rolled over, with my hand still on his chest. As his skinny frame rotated under my hand I felt his bony ribcage and then his shoulderblades. My hand roamed all over his back, with no thought of pretending any kind of therapy, except maybe the erotic kind. "Mmmm", the boy purred as I caressed his flesh. My hand ventured from shoulders down to waist as the boy writhed slowly around on my sofa. I rested my other hand on the boy's tracksuit-clad bottom, and got the strong impression that he wasn't wearing anything underneath. A boy's clothes somehow look and feel differently when he is wearing underclothes, and I guessed Justin wasn't. As I carefully stroked his bottom, he moaned a little louder, giving me the clear suggestion he was enjoying what I was doing. In response, I pulled his tracksuit down a little, just to the top of his crack, to gauge his reaction. As I expected, no undies came into view. Justin wriggled his bottom, which I interpreted as encouragement. I pulled the loose-fitting olive drab cotton garment down a little further, inducing another moan from Justin. Both my hands were caressing flesh now, one on his lower back under his shirt, the other on his bottom, gliding from one cheek to the other. "Nice?" I whispered to the boy, leaning over him. "Mmmm", he confirmed with a moan. "Want me to do your front again?" I murmured, leaving my hand exactly where it was on his bare bottom. I think it was clear to Justin that if he rolled over, I would have my hand squarely on his package. Before I could complete this thought, the little fellow wriggled over onto his back and grinned up at me. The only thing preventing his pants from uncovering his package completely was his boner, which acted as a stiff fleshy tentpeg halting its descent. My hand now rested on top of his little mountain. I gave it a gentle squeeze. "You've been playing with this quite a bit lately, haven't you Justin..." I gently chided the boy, while wiggling his cotton-clad stiffie around gently. "Uh huh", the boy agreed, devoid of any guilt or shame. "Back in the County Home, there was lots of pals to play with, and they all wanted to play with me, too, but now I don't got nobody, so I gotta play with it by myself" "That's too bad", I sympathised. "Maybe I could be your pal too?" I asked, running the tips of my fingers along the hem of his pants as though I was about to pull them down, only waiting for his approval. Justin smiled broadly. "You really wanna to be my pal, and play with me, mister?" he begged earnestly. "The supervisor at the County Home, Mister Blackett, he was my pal, too, and we played together a lot. He let me..." Showing the first example of modesty I had seen from the boy, he called me closer with a crooked finger. I bent down lower, putting my ear near his mouth. "...suck on his wiener. It was fun!" Exacty what I hoped to hear! Justin was experienced in erotic sex-play, with boys his own age and at least one man, and appeared to have enjoyed both. "Do you want me to play with you now, Justin" I asked, even though I had been already groping and stroking his little boner for the last minute or so. "Yeah!" he agreed, nodding his head and watching my hand as I pulled his pants outward and down to uncover his treasures. "You have a cute boner, Justin," I praised the boy as his little erection came into view. Only about two-and-a-half inches, its head was fully covered by a foreskin that had about half an inch to spare. His nuts were drawn up, only grape sized but pretty. His sack had only a little slack skin hanging down towards his crack, suggesting puberty might not be far off. I lightly played my fingers along his cock, making him sigh. "Yeah, that's what the other boys in the Home said. They liked playing with it too, 'cause they didn't got no extra skin like I got" the boy answered, conversationally as though we were discussing tomorrow's weather forecast. "Nice balls, too", I added, to keep him talking. "Mmm", Justin replied. "Mr Blackett said they were gonna grow real big soon, as big as his. He's got really big ones. You can play with mine if you want". I took the boy at his word and fondled his nuggets before returning to his stiffie, gently sliding it up and down. "Why did the other boys like your boner so much, Justin?" I asked, as I manipulated his little tool. The boy sighed and squirmed a little as I slowly jacked him. "I guess 'cause it got stiff so quick after...you know...after I come. And no messy jizz, either. But I'll be makin' jizz real soon, Mister Blackett said, but I gotta..." Justin stopped suddenly, as though afraid he had said too much. I leaned in to whisper in his ear, to build his confidence. "What did Mr Blackett tell you, about making jizz? I won't tell anyone" My soft words fell directly into his ear. "He said...well, he told me, uh, that if I eat his jizz, it will make my boner bigger, an' I'll be able to make my own jizz, only I gotta eat his every day. Is that true?" The earnest look in his eyes told me that it would be cruel to destroy his faith in this Mr Blackett, whoever the lucky dog was, so I stretched the facts a little. "It's absolutely true, Justin, but not many boys know this secret - that's why some boys take longer to get to puberty than others. If you want, you can have some of my jizz, to take Mr Blackett's place?" His face brightened. "Can I? Right now?" he almost begged, the palpable eagerness in his voice tinged with a hint of doubt that I might put him off. "Well sure. We could go to my bedroom right now, if you want. But say, aren't you supposed to be looking for subscriptions to the soccer team? You know, signing up more supporters?" "Shucks," Justin smirked, "I don't really wanna do soccer anyway. I only signed up so's I could be with other boys and...you know, fool around. Maybe even with Coach, too. But all they wanna do is practice and play soccer!" he spat in disgust. We got up from the couch, Justin allowing me to lead him by the hand to my bedroom, now only wearing a basketball shirt over nothing at all (plus sneakers). I sat on the side of my bed, pulling Justin alongside me. "Let's get that shirt off and make you more comfortable, okay?" The boy responded by pointing his arms upwards. This must be the easiest seduction in history, I thought as I slid the polyester top over his head. "Yeah, that's better, huh?" I encouraged Justin as the now naked boy grinned and kicked off his shoes. He scampered to the top of the bed and lay back on my pillows, his hands behind his head. Smiling, Justin nodded towards my trousers. "Now you!" he urged. "Mister Blackett always got naked when he let me suck his penis. Sometimes, when I...uh...got lonely, he let me get in bed with him, at night, after lights out. We had a real fun time then!" Justin's words only served to make me try to get undressed even faster, sensing the boy's eagerness. Whoever this Blackett guy is, he deserves a medal, but judging from what Justin has already told me about him, he's already getting his reward. Flinging off the last shred (my undies), I plopped onto the bed beside the naked boy. "Boy, he's a nice one, ain't he?" Justin said, almost to himself, as he carefully took hold of my erection and guided it towards his mouth. I was already so horny from rubbing his back (and listening to his matter-of-fact description of hot boy sex in the County Home) that I came inside a minute, shooting half a dozen jets of pent-up sperm into Justin's mouth. The boy moaned as he gulped it all down, licking his lips. "Oh boy, that was cool, Mister! You make as much as Mister Blackett! He has to have a rest after he shoots - do all grown-ups gotta rest up like that?" Justin asked. "I think I'll be ready to go in less time that it takes to kick a penalty from the spot!" I enthused, already feeling randy again as I played with the boy's stiffie. "How about you? Do you like being sucked?" "Do I?! You bet! I like it done to my balls as well, Mister!" Justin explained, and being a gentleman, I obliged, making sure to include his little nuts as I slobbered over his skinny dick. Justin made little gasps as I blew him, sneaking my hand under his thighs to test out whether he wanted his asshole played with as well. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" the boy yelped as his hips jerked upwards. During his orgasm I managed to worm my index finger into his buttcrack, searching for his hole. Justin obligingly opened his legs wide to let me in, and I found the prize just as he peaked, pushing my finger up into hs anus about an inch. "Oh, yeah, Mister, that's so good!" Justin moaned as I pushed in and out, letting the boy ease down from the heights. "Want something bigger back there, Justin?" I whispered, still working my pointing digit up his shitter to the first knuckle. "Ohh, you mean...you really wanna fuck me, Mister? I ain't had no-one do it since Mister Blackett done it to me, and I...kinda miss it." I didn't need any further urging - I reached into the top drawer of my bedside cupboard for a cumrag to wipe my finger off, and some lube. "How do you like it, Justin?" I asked, still the gentleman. "Mister Blackett used to spoon me when I got in bed with him. I liked that" the boy suggested, his voice laced with a wistful longing. The boy rolled onto his left side, his back to me, and lifted his bony right knee up to his chin. "Spoons it is", I agreed gleefully, again marvelling at this Blackett guy's action. It's hard enough getting up a boy's asshole, but to have the boy so well trained that he offers it to you on a plate, well, the guy had my admiration. I slicked up my cock with a few rubs, then smeared some lube around Justin's pucker. "Ready, Justin?" I asked as I pushed my hips towards the boy's rear. "Mmm, yeah" he replied, his voice dreamy-sounding. I wasn't sure if he was responding to my question, or to my lubing, and frankly, I didn't care. I lined up my cock with his hole and pushed, reaching over the boy to hold his right thigh for him. "Ugh" was all the noise Justin made as my cock slowly pushed through his anal muscle and up into his hot rectum. "Nice?" I asked the boy, my mouth right next to his ear. "Mmmm" was all he replied. I pushed in further, his groans music to my ears. When I felt my pubes crush against his smooth bottom, I released his thigh and felt for his pecker. It had softened a little, so I manipulated it back to hardness. "Okay Justin, I'm all in. How do you like it - fast or slow?" I purred as I started rocking the boy with my hips. "Uhhh" the boy moaned. "Mister Blackett used to do it fast, in case he had other boys to see...but I kinda like it slow, okay?" he whimpered. "Slow it is", I agreed, settling on a steady pace, two rubs of his dick after each gentle thrust into his bowels. Justin groaned again. I wondered whether the boy liked to be kissed while he was being fucked - only one way to find out: I smooched his neck and shoulder, licking his little earlobe as I did so. The boy's purrs of delight and contentment told me I was on the right track. "Go faster now" Justin urged after a few minutes of careful in-and-out, and I was more than willing to comply. The boy's groans turned to grunts, and his bottom began to push back to meet my increasingly vigorous thrusts. His now-damp hair was in my face and his body was slick with sweat as we writhed together in a glorious fuck. I threw my head back, gasping, as I spurted inside him. Still rubbing his dick, I brought him off seconds later, making him whine with joy as he shuddered in his climax. I held him close as we calmed down, our breathing slowing down gradually. "Oh, Justin, you're a great little fuck" I complimented him. "You're a pretty good fucker yerself, for an old guy", he replied. I could hear the grin in his voice. He rolled away, our bodies making that stickytape noise as we pulled apart. "Now I really do need to recharge," I sighed as we lay alongside each other, both breathing deeply. I reached my arm over onto the boy's shoulders to cuddle, and he took the hint, resting his head on my chest. He threw one leg over my thighs and drew himself close to me. "I can hear your heart beatin'," he remarked, closing one hand on my nipple. As my heartrate slowed, Justin moved his face so that his mouth hovered over the other nipple. "Mister Blackett liked it when I done this", the boy observed as he began to tongue and suck on my tit, while twirling his fingers on the other one. To my surprise, my dick began to rise to the occasion. Two orgasms in one day was about my limit nowadays, but I had the feeling Justin didn't much care for limits. He giggled when he saw the effect his nipple stimulation was having on my cock. "That happens to Mister Blackett too, when I suck his tits for him. You wanna...do it again?" I sighed. I'd never turned a boy down in my life before, but I wasn't sure if I was up to the task. "Well, Justin, I'd love to, but I think you might have got all the jizz I've got, for now. I'm just old, I guess" The boy snickered. "Aww, you ain't that old. An' I know something that always works. Just lay there". With that, He threw his leg over my middle and knelt astride me. Letting go of my nipple, he reached between his thighs and found my dick (which was starting to wilt now that his sucking of my tit had stopped) and gave it a squeeze or three. Then Justin lowered his bottom onto my slowly hardening cock, grunting a little as he centred it on his hole. "Ugh! Aah! Uhh!" he moaned as he carefully settled himself in my loins, my prick fully lodged inside Justin's rectum. In this position, I actually think I got an extra half inch of penetration. "Yeahhh!", the horny boy sighed as he began to slide forwards and backwards. Pivoting on his knees and toes, Justin drew another orgasm from a place that I thought had none left. My groans were weak and drawn-out, but Justin did not complain - he reached his own dry cum riding my cock before slumping onto my chest. Maybe twenty minutes passed before either of us felt like stirring. "I guess I better go, huh?" Justin murmured, sliding off me. "You can stay if you like?" I ventured, but I knew it was futile. He had Gil and Brenda, or whatever their names were, to look after him. Me, I had...well, memories. Of a cute 11 year old who I managed to cum with - three times in one day, no less. Ahh yes, good times. end