Date: Tue, 29 Dec 2020 20:14:24 +0100
From: mushu410@mail.com
Subject: Malcolm and My Neighbors Chapter 1 (Revised)

DISCLAIMER:

This story is fictional. No real boys have been harmed in the writing.

Certain characters have been inspired by ones created by Linwood Boomer and
copyrighted by Regency Entertainment. The main characters also contain
traits of people I really knew.  The television show "Malcolm in the
Middle" is copyright 2000 by Twentieth Century Fox Television, Regency
Entertainment, and Monarchy Enterprises.  This story in no way implies the
true sexual orientation of the actors or characters they portray.  It is
pure fantasy.

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INTRODUCTION TO THE SERIES-PLEASE READ

While these stories are inspired by the TV show "Malcolm in the Middle" and
reference elements from them, in no way do you have to be familiar with the
show to enjoy the stories.  As the narrator, I describe everyone fully,
just as if it were really happening to me for the first time.  So it's just
like reading a totally made-up story from the Adult/Youth section (my
favorite section).  Each story is self-contained and also has a cum scene.
So you can just read one chapter and jack-off to it, then come back a day
or month later and jack-off to the next chapter.  The first few chapters
are just me cumming but later...well, I don't want to give too much away.
I try to make my stories real - to set things up as if what ends up
happening could have truly happened.  So to get into it, you need to read
the whole story and see how things end up happening.  If you do, the story
will have more "impact" on you at the end-if you know what I mean.  Thanks
for reading, and let me know if you like it.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *

Malcolm and My Neighbors
Chapter 1
Naked Indians

I had my pick of houses to buy.  I was 22, a year out of college, and had
just landed a job as the gym teacher at the nearby combined
elementary/middle school.  I was lucky to get any job as a physical
education teacher, but then, most people want the high school positions.
But me, I like the younger kids.  I mean, I REALLY like the younger kids,
if you know what I mean.  Well...boys, that is.  Anyway, the neighborhood
was about 20 minutes from my friends and family, but I preferred to live
near work.  With the location of these houses, I could actually walk to
school.  Plus, I thought it was time to get a little buffer between my
family and me...time to branch out and start my own life independently.

The interesting thing is that there were 3 houses for sale - all surrounding
this one house that wasn't for sale.  The one not for sale had a very
shabby looking yard.  The houses for sale were the ones on each side of it,
and the one across the street.  I suppose had there been a house behind,
that might have been for sale as well.  But behind the houses were some
woods and a creek.  Of the three available, I had focused on the one to the
right.  The driveway of it met the driveway of the shabby house next door.
But the previous owners had planted a row of shrubs in between the
driveways as a buffer.  Still, someone had been apparently walking or
running through it, because there was a path worn through the hedge back
near the fence.  And that was another thing.  The back yard was surrounded
by an eight foot tall fence.  I figured that was just for privacy because
of the in ground pool.  But what was really interesting is that the fence
along the left side (the one adjoining the shabby yard house) was fortified
with sheet metal and extra boards.  I didn't think too much about it at the
time — maybe that wall got a lot of wind or something.  Anyway, the house
was in decent shape and of the 3 available it was the only one with a pool.
It also had a basement, which was apparently rare in this neighborhood.

So, it was my second visit to see the property and I had pretty much
decided on the house but I was still wondering about the neighbors.  The
real estate agent and I were walking out the door when she got a call and
had to run.  But that was fine since we had arrived in separate cars.  As I
was walking to my car, I heard someone in the driveway next door so I
walked between the gap in the hedge to see a man of about 40 rinsing off an
old dodge van.

"Hi," I said, "I'm thinking about maybe buying the house next door."  "Oh
good," he said, doing a final squirt of water on the side door.  "Just
rinsing off a bit of war paint."

War paint?  Just then, I heard whooping and hollering, and looked up to see
3 boys running across the yard to the swing set.  The guy with the hose
kept talking, but I didn't hear a word he said.  Thirty feet away from me
was my wetdream of all wetdreams.  Three boys about 6, 8, and 11, with
Indian stripes on their face and chest.  The 2 older ones had only
loincloths on, and the little one was completely NAKED!

I hadn't really thought about 6-year-olds before.  My favorite age is 11 or
12, but just the audacity of this little bugger running around completely
naked with warpaint and screaming — it reeked male sexuality.  He looked
to be about 40 pounds and not much over 3 feet tall.  I would guess his
nose was just about the height of the kitchen countertop.  He looked to be
blond, but it was hard to tell how blond.  All 3 of the boys had caked hair
gel – or something–into their hair in order to shape it in the middle
and make it stick up like a mohawk.  The little tyke was fairly tan for a
blond.  Even his ass and cock were not the blinding white that you would
expect.  (And that's unfortunate, cause I think that's so hot.)  Anyway, I
got the impression that he was no stranger to naked outdoor play.  His cock
was about an inch and a half I'd say—probably about an inch of actual
cock and a half inch of foreskin.  I wondered how big it was hard.  Had he
ever been hard?  Would the foreskin still cover it or would the head peek
out?  No way to guess.  His marble size balls were just barely visible.
But he had the cutest ears that stuck out pretty far, and gorgeous big
brown eyes.  And then there was his ass.  A lot of little boys have those
pathetic soft squishy totally flat butts until they hit puberty.  Not this
little stud.  His was a big boy butt.  Firm and round and arching out from
his little waist.  I would guess that if he were lying on his stomach, the
top of his butt would be about 5 inches higher than his waist.  Okay, maybe
4, but still, perfection.

Just watching the 3 of them run around looking and screaming like animals
was as sexy as any porno on earth could be.  I was glad I was wearing tight
jeans that kept my raging 6 inch hard-on hidden.  My cock had started to
grow as soon as my brain began to process the sight before me and in a few
seconds was fully engorged, although, painfully pushed down into the
pants leg of my Levis.

By this time, the oldest one was standing on top of the sliding board
dancing and whooping, while the younger 2 were running around the slide
doing a war dance.  Then the little one saw me.  "Well, that's the end of
that show," I thought, sadly, "now he's going to run into the house to hide
his nakedness."  But no.  He looked right at me and screamed, "White man!"
and ran over to me, toy tomahawk in the air, his little cocklett bouncing
and jiggling all the way.  He stopped about 4 feet from me, both arms
raised, ready to attack.  I drank in the white hairless armpits (yeh,
that's one of my things) and the rest of this naked angel.  I'm sure he
wasn't trying to be sexual (well, pretty sure) but the way he was leaning
back with his arms ready to attack and wiggling and yelling, it gave the
effect of jutting his cock out toward me and shaking it back and forth,
almost as if he were saying, "Suck it, white man."

Believe me, in another world–in a culture where it was permissible, I
would have readily dropped to my knees, feasted on his offering and been
the sexslave of this miniature warrior.  As it was, my knees buckled and I
had to back up and lean against the van for support.  The father apparently
noticed my plight and said, "Don't be scared, he's just playing."  Surely
now, the show would be over and the "jutting cockboy" would be sent into
the house to get some clothes.  And though disappointed, I was more than a
little relieved as I was afraid that any minute I was going to be
convulsing in a spontaneous orgasm.  But again, no.  The father gently
turned him around, gave him a gentle push on that beautiful bare back and
simply said, "Go play, honey."

Then he called after him, "Dewey, where's your loincloth?"  (Okay, NOW was
the show over?)

"Reese's rope broke, and he took mine."

"Okay, just be careful where you sit."

Wow.  So the little one's name was Dewey, and one of the other two was
called Reese.  Unusual names.  "Which one's Reese?" I asked.  (I was only
just able to speak.)

"Reese is the one on top of the sliding board and the other one is
Malcolm."

But I haven't yet described the other two.  Let's start with Malcolm.
According to his father, he wasn't 8, but actually 11–just a late
bloomer.  He was a little over 4 feet tall and very skinny.  Not as much
butt as his brothers, but then, what I could see of it (which was a lot,
actually) his WAS that stupendous blinding white in contrast to his
slightly darker skin.  Yum yum!  The loincloths they wore were only about 3
inches wide both in the front and back, barely covering their most intimate
delicacies.  So Malcolm, while maybe not as traditionally "hot" as his
older brother had a certain shy innocence about him which made him all the
more attractive to me.  While it was terribly sexy for the littlest one to
run around so confidently uncovered, it would be equally sexy to get a peek
at this more reserved brother's most private parts, either accidentally or
with his permission.

And then there was Reese.  The oldest at 12 and also small for his
Age – maybe about 4 and a half feet in height if that.  But he was already
getting a shape – flat stomach and thin waste and the beginning of pecs.
And like his little brother, that wonderful jutting, firm, curve of an
Ass – definitely 5 inches out from the waist for him.  And he had a fair
amount of tan already, considering it was only June.  Of the three
brothers, he seemed to be the most confident.  Or I don't know if confident
is the word.  He seemed to just not care.  I mean–he was "out
there" – screaming and jumping on the slide more like a wild animal than
an Indian.  He definitely had a "devil-may-care" attitude about him.  Like
his little brother; but in a more pointed, stronger way, he oozed sexuality
and maleness from the top of that kiddie slide.

Meanwhile, Dewey was climbing the ladder of the slide and saying, "I want
my loincloth back."  He started tugging on the little piece of cloth that
was the only thing separating Reese's privates from my horny gaze.  Reese
just kept dancing and whooping.  Did he not realize his brother was about
to denude him?  Did he not know a stranger was standing in the driveway
watching?  Did he not care?  Little Dewey had managed to pull the cloth
down from his brother's crotch to the point where he could wrap his fingers
fully around it.  Then, with one swift hard tug, it pulled out of the
binder and completely off, leaving Reese with nothing but a rope around his
waist.  No lie, I really did nearly faint.  I managed to stay upright while
leaning against the van, but I did black out for a second or two.

Thankfully, I didn't miss the next part.  As Reese, turned around to look
down at Dewey, Malcolm shimmied up the slide and aimed–and I mean he
took his time and aimed his tomahawk right for Reese's buttcrack.  Swoosh!
"Ow," yelled Reese.  The next thing I knew, Malcolm and Dewey were running
past us to the front yard–and Reese was running after them – TOTALLY
NAKED!  TO THE FRONT YARD!!!

Dewey hadn't bothered to don the loincloth but was still naked as
well–twirling the scant piece of clothing over his head while whooping
like an Indian.  "Boys, boys!" shouted their father, "Stop!"

Okay, finally some sanity?  "Boys," said their father, I want you to meet
Mr...?"

"Jones."

"Mr. Jones.  He might buy the house next door."

"That would be nice," said Malcolm, obviously the one in the group who
could show some decorum.  "Can we swim in your pool?" asked Dewy, "Please,
please, pleeeaassee?"  By this time, he had wrapped his naked body around
my leg.  I took the opportunity to rub the back of his head and his
shoulders as far as I could reach.  Meanwhile, I was checking out the mini
hunk-of-all-hunks, Reese, who was still jumping around me and saying things
like, "Swim...pool...paleface."  But at least I got to check him out close
up.  His bouncing boytool looked to be close to 3 inches long (counting the
half inch of foreskin) and was there?  Yes there was–just the tiniest
wisps of pubic hair on each side of the base of his little morsel.  His
balls were also developed, the size of grapes and definitely hanging down
in their sack, although not hanging as far as that beautiful cock.

I assured them they could swim in the pool if I decided to buy the house.
IF?  Who was I kidding?

The father, who by this time had told me his name was Hal, pried Dewey off
of my leg (almost bumping my engorged dick in the process) and then the
three boys proceeded out to the front yard at breakneck speed.  What kind
of family was this?  Moreover, what kind of idiots would ever want to move
away from them?

Just then, a woman, I assume the mother, came out the side door wearing a
smock with a name badge that said, "Lois."  You could hear the distant
sounds of slapping and yelling coming from the front yard.  "Boys, get over
here!" she screamed.  "Hal, the boys used up all my hair gel and lipstick.
What are they doing with lipstick?"

"Honey, they're just playing Indians.  They needed warpaint.  Just be glad
they're doing it outside and not in."

Just then, the boys came running back down the driveway and this time,
Reese's cock wasn't jiggling as before.  No.  It was ROCK HARD!!!  I kid
you not.  About 4 inches in length, as big around as a roll of dimes and
sticking straight up.  He ran back to the garage and stopped and turned
around, doing a war yell and posing with his arms clenched to show off his
budding biceps.  Malcolm grabbed the hose off the driveway and aimed a
pointed spray right at his brother's dick!  It was a direct hit.  Reese
doubled over and ran off–I'm not sure if in pleasure or pain or both.

"Boys," shouted their mother.  "Reese, come here!"  Reese, with dick now at
half-mast and sticking straight out from his hot little body, joined his
brothers in the driveway.  "Make sure you take a shower before bed and no
more getting in my makeup!"

"Okay, Mom," said Malcolm, "we promise."  "But can you get us some warpaint
at the store, Mom?" asked Dewey.  "I'll see, sweetie," answered his Mom.
And the boys ran off around the back corner of the house which was both
mercifully and sadly, out of my sight.

"Honey," said Hal, "this is Mr. Jones.  He's thinking about buying the
Waldman's house."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Jones, but sorry I have to get to work."  She started
to get into the van then stopped as if pulled back by something.  She
paused and gave me a serious look.  "Listen, Mr. Jones.  I'm sure you're a
nice person and you'd make a wonderful neighbor.  And we're nice people
too, that is, Hal and me.  But our kids...our kids are hellions.  If you
knew me, you'd know that my big thing is honesty.  And I have to tell you,
if you move in over there, whether you give them permission or not, you're
going to have kids in your yard, in your pool and maybe with swimsuits,
maybe not.  If that's not okay, then consider yourself warned, and if it is
okay, then welcome to the neighborhood."  And with that, she kissed her
husband, got in the van and drove off.

As she was starting the van, a crash was heard in the backyard and Hal went
to investigate.  And as she backed away, a still naked little Dewey was
revealed on the other side of the van, peeing on the hedge between the
driveways.  He stood there unabashedly with his hands on his hips while
bending in the middle to push his little penis forward.  I couldn't help
it; I walked over in order to stare at the golden nectar being released
from that magically beautiful little wand.  He didn't care.  "Look,
Mr. Jones," he looked up smiling, all cuteness and deliciousness, "I'm
watering your bushes for you!"

"Yes you are, young man!"  I knelt down to get on eye level with him
and put my hand out to pat his head, but went lower to his back, then finally patted his waist just at the top of that luscious butt.  I so wanted to go lower but thought better of it.  You see for all of the lust I've just told you about, I had never been with anyone under age, at least not under my age. I was too afraid to risk it.  Anyway, I'll tell you more about my history later.

But back to the story – I was so horny at this point I wondered if I had
created a new medical condition.  What would you call it when you have your
first shake of an orgasm and your cum is already in your cock, ready to
spew, but then you hold off cumming for 10 minutes?  Whatever it is, I was
in a state I had never been.  But before I could cum, I had to make sure I
got this house!  I nearly ran to the car, then drove around the block to a
side street where there were no houses close, stopped, pulled out my
cellphone and my aching cock.

"Mrs. Rayburn," I said, "I definitely want the house."  I was barely able
to keep my hand off my raging hard-on but I was afraid that with one touch,
I would spew. "That's great," she said, "because the owners are desperate
and they just lowered the price again.  I can meet you to do the contract
in 30 minutes."  I hung up the phone and was about to grab myself.  But
then I thought, "at least try to make this last."  I looked around and saw
no one.  I reclined the seat all the way, undid my pants and pulled them
and my underwear down below my knees.  Then I took my shirt off in part
because I wanted to be naked and in part because it was the only thing I
had to catch the huge load I was about to shoot.  I closed my eyes and
replayed the scenes of the last 10 minutes.  Images went flying through my
head like someone quickly changing channels on the TV.  I saw little Dewy
shaking his tiny cocklett at me, Reese dancing fully naked on top of the
slide, then getting a tomahawk between his cheeks, Reese with his raging
boner getting hit by a water stream from Malcolm, and I saw myself rubbing
the lower back of precious little Dewey while he made peepee with his sweet
little peepee, just a foot and a half from my eyes...and mouth...  Within
seconds I felt my orgasm coming.  It seemed to start in my toes, my
fingertips and the top of my head, then converge in the middle of my body,
then fan out again.  I went into convulsions that wildly shook the car.  If
I had had my seatbelt on, it would have surly snapped.  From somewhere deep
within me–a new place I hadn't known about before, emerged my own
unabashed war cry.  "EEOOWWWOOOO!" I wailed as I exploded all over my
hand–and not just my hand but my chest, my chin...there was cum all over
the car ceiling.  The space shuttle should have such a blast off.  I almost
passed out again.  It was gut-wrenchingly wonderful.  Finally, sweet
release.  I sat in my car, nearly naked, dazed as I recovered from what
closely resembled a combination seizure and heart attack.  Yes.  I HAD to
have that house!!!

But was I doing the right thing?  Would I really enjoy the possibilities
that lay ahead, or would it just be constant torture?  My aching cock told
me that I had to find out.  And even if it would be torture, torture had
never been so sweet.

Coming in chapter 2 – Reese's Visit

Please let me know if you like this story.  Mushu410@mail.com

A two or three word note from you is great but I'd love to hear more if you
want to take the time–your age/stats.  What country you are in.  Your
fantasies or real experiences.  Did my story make you cum?  And, if you
e-mail me, then I will put you on my list and let you know when new
chapters go up.

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