Date: Sat, 2 Nov 2013 21:48:35 -0400 From: Kevin Peake Subject: Submission: Dads 'N' Lads Episode V Dads 'N' Lads Episode V - Call Me Daddy, Kid by Daddy.K © 2013 Email: daddy.kevin.p@gmail.com Twitter (story announcements, assorted bullshit.): @daddykevinp Socrates is known for saying "Motherfucker, I drank what?!?" but you can be known for shouting "OEDIPUS, I DONATED TO NIFTY ARCHIVE!!!"from the rooftop of your neighborhood brothel. All you need to do is 1) donate ( http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ) and 2) shout. You could eliminate 2) but this would disappoint those goading you. Story Code: Mb/oral/anal Ah, yes. Calhoun Middle School, an old brick building, shaded by oaks, nestled in a quiet pleasant neighborhood, chock full of sweet young boys caught up in puberty's fiery web. Outside: a big muscled man leans back against his truck. It is, as you've guessed, Keith Peake. A man who specializes in guiding sweet boys through puberty. His cap is pulled low over his eyes. His shirt is completely unbuttoned, revealing the deep, furred valley between his pectorals and the trail of hair that marched inexorably down to his footlong daddycock. That famous meat is outlined by his snug jeans, which ride low. No belt. His giant nuts bulge to the left of the seam. They boil, quietly yet powerfully, with his sperm. Arms folded, he waits for the boy. Which boy? Any middle school is a throbbing brothel full of hot, young, succulent, unfucked male flesh. A building full of boys with smooth round bubble butts, deep downless cracks, and tiny anuses unplowed by man or vegetable. And tight nutsacks like silk, and cocks that each morning are hard with the, mysterious desires a boy encounters in his dreams. Which boy? Well, Keith Peake, pedophile, can't help thinking of all these boys. Can't help of thinking of bored boys in biology class, idly spreading their legs. Can't help but think of boys at the urinal, peeing shyly through dicks they're afraid to show to anyone else. Can't help but think of boys with sagging pants showing an inch, maybe two, of underwear. Can't help but thinking of PE. And boys in jockstraps. Can't help of thinking of the wrestling team, and smooth boys in singlets rolling around on the floor. Can't help thinking of swimming and diving classes, full of boys wearing speedos that don't entirely cover the territory. Can't help thinking of gymnastics, and boys in tights. He thinks of all these boys. But he's here for one specific boy. As he thinks, and lets his mind submerge in images of smooth boyflesh, sweat beads on Keith Peake's folded forearms. Rank daddyfunk rises from his armpits, growing more pungent by the minute. His breathing is shallow. His belly crackles with electricity. It is time. The last bell of Calhoun's school day rings. Keith's lip curls into a half grin. He scratches his thigh. The doors burst open. Out they swarm. Middle schoolers, the hot ones, the sexy boys Keith likes best, the twelve year olds, the thirteen year olds, smooth, their flesh begging for a rugged man's caresses; for a built stud's hungry, nibbling lips; for the cream a hairy adult male spews from his gigantic nuts. The fourteen year olds, with soft feathery down blossoming in their armpits, along their upper lips, their bodies awkwardly stretching towards manhood, in dire need of a good, stiff cock up their tight butts to point them the right way in life. Many of the boys streaming out the front door know Keith Peake. Maybe they haven't yet taken his footlong daddycock up their butts. They know his reputation as a bringer of pleasure. So these kids smile, and they wave, and they cavort, beginning for attention. Keith grins back at these. It is difficult to keep from distraction. These kids are hot, and Keith wants them. But he's here for one, special boy. "Dad!" The word makes Keith's cock throb. But it's not uttered by boy he seeks. Tristan, his black-haired fourteen year old, beams at his dad from the top of the steps. Keith beckons Tristan over. His kid rushes up. Father and son embrace, but not in a chaste, protect-the-sanctity-of-the-American-family manner. Tristan slips open his father's shirt and as soon as his pink lips find one of his Dad's long nipples in the midst of all that fur he nuzzles, chewing slightly and making his father gasp. For his part, Keith slides a hand down Tristan's muscled back, to cup a hard, round buttcheek, stroking his son's smooth flesh through the boy's shorts with his thumb. Bending down, Keith buries his face in Tristan's hair. The boy smells of sweat. "Going to dance class?" Finishing up his tease of his dad's nipples with a lascivious tongue-lashing, Tristan says, "Yeah." Tristan stares at his father's nipple, glistening with his spit. He smacks his lips. "You're sweaty, Dad." "Hot at the carwash, son." "Fuckin' Adam, you mean." Tristan punches his Dad's bicep. Just kidding, stud. Keith laughs. "C'mon, boy, use your brain. Adam's in school." "Betcha snuck in a fucked him in the bathroom." "Yep," says Keith. "Found him at the bottom of an all-boy dogpile." "He's like Jesse." "And you." Tristan looks up at his Dad. "Gonna give me a ride?" Keith pats his son's round ass fondly. "Later, boy. You have those blue PJs on when I get home and I'll fuck you till my cum runs out your nose. Sexy boy." Tristan laughs. "It's a date, Dad!" His eyes are bright as he gazes up at his Dad. This man brings him delight. This man makes him glad to be a boy. Tristan would never want any other man in the world except Keith to be his Dad. Shyly he pecks Keith on the lips, but his Dad isn't shy about his lust for his son. Keith pulls Tristan tightly to him and thrusts his tongue aggressively into Tristan's mouth. He feels his son begin to stiffen against his thigh before he releases him. "Have fun, sexy boy," Keith says. Tristan, laughing, rushes off down the street towards the center of Ellicott Falls. Keith's eyes follow him. Yep, that boy's butt looks sexy in PJs, but nothing can compare to looking at Tristan clad in tights for dance. Kid's begging for daddycock just dressed like that. Whoa. There he is. Atop the school steps. Staring at the man beside the truck parked across the street. Keith's quarry. Devon Whitewater's black hair glistens like polished obsidian in the afternoon sun. His honey-colored skin is mostly covered by loose, silver, nylon basketball shorts and a jersey, but his slender shoulders are arms are bare. A backpack is slung over one shoulder. Keith, seeing the boy's large, luminous eyes glued to his muscular frame, grins a grin that is pure lust. A leer. He wants this kid to know that a man is hot for him. There's a stunned look on Devon's face. Could it be happening to him? Finally? The boy burqa displeases Keith. But it's not Devon's fault. It's the kid's mother who's the issue. She's gotta be hot for her flesh, too, to be so disturbed by his beauty that to keep from succumbing to her desires she's got to bury it beneath layer after layer of loose fabric. Keith resolves to get the boy to dress more sexily, like Jesse. Or Tristan. Or Adam. Time to get the ballin' rolling. Keith crooks a finger at Devon. Come hither, it commands. Devon hitherward comes, trotting, his eyes feasting on the man's exposed torso, darting furtively downward to examine the bulges that Keith's sex organs raise in his tight jeans. Could it be? Really? Could it be? Could it finally be about to happen? Remember that time when you knew, absolutely knew, that you were about to finally have real sex? To get your butt plowed or to fuck some hot boy's succulent ass? Well, that cyclone of feeling churns in Devon's guts right now. That sense that the world is about to change forever. Devon stops, panting, in front of Keith. The boy gazes up at the man, at his stubble jaw, at the shadowed eyes glinting like stars. "Devon," rumbles Keith. Devon gulps. "Yeah, Mr. Peake?" He's forgotten what a sense of power this man emanates. But he's not forgotten that giant cock. No, ever since Keith Peake fucked his own son in Coach Dusker's health class, pretty much everything in Devon's life has revolved around the memory of that huge daddy dick. His eyes drop down the length of the man's body. He knows he should be looking into the man's face. But he can't help himself. So his eyes take in the bulging pectorals, the big biceps, the long nipples, the copious hair. All these are milestones on his eyes' journey to cock. To the huge bulge in Keith's jeans. "Coach Dusker called me earlier," says Keith. He spreads his legs a bit and he rests a palm on his shaft. He wants Devon to know he's not embarrassed. Not embarrassed at all. A few moments pass while Devon breathes heavily, staring. "Yeah?" "He said you needed some help with your homework in health class." "Yeah," says Devon. Even though his proximity to Keith's cock fills his mind, Devon can't hide his embarrassment. "I don't have a Dad." Keith lays a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "I know. I know." With his free hand Keith unbuttons his jeans. He peels open the fly, his zipper sliding down about half an inch. Thick pubic bush emerges, for the boy's to contemplate. "I can be your Dad, Devon, if you want. I'd like to be your Daddy." Devon's eyes do not leave that partly-exposed daddyfur. "Really? You wanna be my Dad?" "Ever since I saw you," Keith says. "Come on. Get up in the truck. You got some studying to do." Devon, for a few seconds, is frozen there. This is his first adult decision. The first adult puzzle he must solve. All the pieces are there. Keith's open fly. Thick pubic hair curling around the flaps of denim. The subtle aroma. The outline of the giant shaft. His tiny butthole. He licks his lips. He looks into Keith's eyes. Down again at the fly. Up again. "Come on," says Keith, grinning. "Let's go have some fun, Devon!" He opens the door to the truck. "All right, Mr. Peake!" The boy climbs up. I'll bet you're wondering what the kid's butt looks like as he climbs up. Can't see much of Devon's ass -- but basketball shorts don't show off much these days. The Junior Anti-Sex League prevails in the land of the free. But his jersey rides up, revealing the small of his back, and the valley of his spine. Keith licks his lips. If Devon were just some kid he'd glimpsed in a mall he'd be plotting how to get the kid into a stall, planning on getting the kid to lift his jersey, just so he could lick that exposed patch of honey-colored skin. Like you, Keith loves the unlawful pleasures to be found in a thirteen year old boy's tight butt. Devon slides across the bench seat as Keith follows the boy into the cab. "Why so far away?" asks Keith. Devon is pressed against the door. Keith, grinning, pats the leather next to his thigh. "Put your bag on the floor, Devon. Then slide over here and feel my muscles." Devon gulps. Like many boys he's torn. It's a big step, having sex, but no boy can long resist the lure of sex. Can the man read his mind? Well, the man doesn't need to. He remembers how the kid watched him when he plowed Jesse. The backpack thud to the floor. Devon slides over. Contact. Boy thigh touches man thigh. With a trembling hand he reaches out. His eyes roam the man's chest, seeking a point of first contact. His fingers touch the man's muscled belly, right where the fly would be buttoned. The kid touches the man there because the kid is thinking about cock. Pressed tightly against Keith Peake, Devon becomes fully aware of the man's powerful smell. "You smell awesome, Mr. Peake." Keith, turning the key in the ignition, leans down and sniffs the boy's hair. "You too, Devon." The boy doesn't smell quite as good as Keith wished. Too much soap. Devon's mom clearly has the kid bathe every day. Far more unnatural than simple pedo lust. Though Keith likes playing with boys in the bathtub, he's a man who likes a smelly boy. If Devon had been, say, ripe like Tristan, then right now Keith would ripping off the kid's shorts, pushing him against the seat back, spitting on his palm to grease up his cockhead, and mounting the kid from behind. Right now. In front of the middle school. Keith puts the truck in gear. "Take your shirt off, Devon." The boy gulps but doesn't move. "Take it off, kid. Show me that sexy body." Biting his lip, Devon thinks about it. Keith eases the truck forward, moving slowly around knots of kids on their way home or to play. As if struck by lightning, Devon rips his jersey off and snuggles up next to the man. "Good boy." Keith strokes Devon's smooth shoulders. One finger draws a line down his spine. "You look nice, Devon. You're a sexy kid, you know that, don't you?" The boy blushes. In Devon's shorts, unseen beneath the loose folds of nylon and his cotton boxers, the boy's four incher stiffens. Keith throws an arm round Devon's shoulders. "I like you, Devon. I like you a lot." Devon giggles. "Me too." He looks up. "Take your shirt off, Mr. Peake." Keith grins, though his eyes are fixed on the road. He's careful not to hit any of this sweet, young flesh. "Say please, Devon." "Please, Mr. Peake?" "OK, but since I'm driving you gotta help me." Keith leans forward and takes his left hand off the wheel. "OK, pull it off." Devon pulls the man's shirt half off. Keith switches hands. "OK, pull it all the way off." Missing accomplished, Devon flings the garment on top of his backpack. He stares at Keith Peake's big, powerful chest, thickly clad in manfur. "Wow," Devon says softly. Keith pumps his pectorals. "You like?" But Devon is thinking of something else. "I've been practicing'," says Devon, eyeing the man's nipple. "You've been doing it like Dusker told you to?" "I've been putting stuff, you know, up my butt." "Like what?" "W- well," Devon stammers, looking shyly up at the big man. He's embarrassed, a little, telling this man of those time he lay on his back on his bed, knees lifted so high they press against the bed on both sides of his body, greasing up his night's homework. "I started with a carrot. Coach Dusker said that was a good thing for a boy to start with." "He's right." "I had some hand lotion. It went up there real sweet!" "Felt good?" "Yeah," says Devon. "Did Coach Dusker give you an A?" "Yep! I showed everyone in class. Coach Dusker helped." Devon giggles. "His fingers went up there, to, but I didn't mind." "Betcha it wasn't enough, was it, sexy boy?" Though now clear of the school kids, Keith is driving slowly, trying to work out in his mind the best place to help Devon earn an A in Coach Dusker's sex ed class. That field across the river? No, not for a boy's first time. More than likely Jesse would be there, with his Marine, or maybe a trucker he'd picked up. Keith's bed? Well, that'll work, but there's been countless cherries popped there and Keith wants something else. But what? Boy's Club? No. Founder's Park? No. "It was OK, I guess. I mean, I liked it, but I asked Mom to buy me some cucumbers." Keith laughs. "That's more like it!" Devon laughs too. "She looked at me kinda funny, 'cause I don't like 'em, you know, in my mouth. But they're cool up my butt, Mr. Peake!" "They're pretty big, for a sexy boy like you. Bet you had to try a couple of times to get one up there." "Yeah! How'd you know?" Keith moves his hand to Devon's knee. He strokes the kid. Shyly Devon spreads his legs. Up Devon's thigh Keith's hand roams. The boy is smooth. But not soft. Good muscles, tight and well-defined. He strokes Devon gently. The boy opens his legs wider. His honey-colored skin draws Keith's fingers upwards, into the shorts. "Get an A?" "Yeah!" Devon laughs. He eases his butt forward on the seat, moving Keith's hand deeper up his shorts. This is like riding a roller coaster! "It was funny. I showed 'em next day in class. I just dropped my shorts and popped it out on Coach Dusker's desk! It was still all slimy! He put his fingers up there to make sure it hadn't hurt me. I got extra credit!" An idea occurs. "Where does your Mom work?" "At Wal-Mart. She gets off at six." Bingo. Nothing hotter than fucking a boy in his own bed. Preferably with some precious plush toy watching. "Where do you live, son?" The boy looks surprised. "We gonna do this at my place?" "Yep. In your bed, Devon." Keith's hands roves northward. Moist thigh, and the hem of Devon's boxers. "I'm gonna be your Daddy, Devon. I'm gonna put you in your bed, and then I'm gonna put my cock where you put those cucumbers." "Deep Park apartments," says Devon. He looks at up Keith. "Can I smell your armpit, Mr. Peake?" Keith grins. He'd be hard-pressed to name a boy who wasn't obsessed with his funk. "Not right this second, kid. I'm molesting you." He slips his hand into Devon's boxers. There. Yes. There it is. He feels smooth boy nuts, smooth as silk, on his fingertips. Devon giggles, cranking his legs wider. "That's the bad touch, Mr. Peake. I like it." "Yep. Bathing suit area. They warn you about men like me, don't they?" "Yeah." Devon's eyelids flutter with pleasure. For a few seconds more Keith's fingers stroke the soft underside of Devon's barely mature nuts. Then they go roaming, seeking the valley south of there. Hot. Moist. Then ... target acquired. Keith grins. The boy's pucker is tight, even after its recent rape by rampant vegetables. Unlubed, yet sweaty. It pulses, and Devon smirks when Keith touches him there. "Like it, boy?" Devon reaches over to feel the huge tube of flesh thrust down Keith's thighs. ""Does it hurt?" "Does what hurt?" "When you put it in." "Did Jesse act like it hurt?" "No," says Devon, "but he's done it before." Keith, a good dad, clearly remembers Jesse's first time. Boy's long locks spread out. Eyes clenched shut. The soft cooing noises as his father fed inch after inch of fat dadshaft into his tight rectum. His delighted sequels when he came. "Jesse loved it from the first time, Devon." He strokes the kid's hole. "You got nothing to worry about with me. It's gonna make you feel good inside, Devon. A man's cock does that to boys." "You sure I can take it? I mean, I've seen dicks on the Internet, and yours is twice as big as any I've ever seen there!" "Jesse took it. You watched me fuck him. You know my son Kevin?" "Nope." "Well, he's only eleven. He's just a bit smaller than you, and he can take it." Keith puffs up with pride. "Every inch." "All of it?" "Right down to my pubes." Keith pulls his hand out of Devon's shorts. "I think he gets off on feeling my hair in his buttcrack." He raises his arm. "Now sniff." Pushing his face into the man's armpit, Devon purrs. This smell has been driving him crazy ever since he climbed into the cab. It's like being in the locker room in the high school, only magnified a million times. A wet patch blooms on the crotch of his shorts, growing swiftly. He strokes Keith's long shaft. The man's cock isn't stiff yet, but it's getting there. Enticed by the smell, Devon's tongue emerges and licks a droplet of sweat from a tuft of hair. "You like, son?" "Wow, Mr. Peake," says Devon, smacking his lips. "You need to fucking hurry up and get me home!" The Deer Park apartments lay off the highway on the west side of Ellicott Falls. A newer development, it is cheap. Two story boxes, so uniform and bland only a factor's anus could have plopped them out, squat on naked lawns where spindly saplings struggling against the sunlight. As a sop to the vegetarian terrorists a few of the old growth trees still dwelt forlornly here and there between the plywood blocks. Plastic swing sets -- guaranteed 100% lawsuit-proof -- swarm with young kids. Keith parks across the street from Devon's building, in a spot reserved for visitors. "Get your shirt, sexy boy, and don't forget your books." "Sure thing, Mr. Peake!" The shirtless broad-shouldered man struts with his arm laid casually on the narrow shoulders of the shirtless boy. He's pretty sure eyes are watching them. He's also sure no one knows what's about to happen. Yep, he's Keith Peake. Yep, this is Devon Whitewater, his boy. Yep, it's a pedophile and his boy. Yep, big cock is going up tight butt. It's good to be a man. Together they walk into the stairwell. Devon grinned up at him. "This is gonna be awesome, isn't it, Mr. Peake?" "It's gonna be fucking hot, kid. Now get that damn door unlocked!" As Devon fumbles for his key, Keith slips his hand down the kid's shorts. Small, round tight boybutt. Not a bubble butt, Devon was too slender for that. It's the kind of butt that, when you're looking down at it after penetration, you're sure can't take the rest of your length or the pounding you intend to deal out. Feeling the hand, Devon freezes, glances both ways, then looks up at Keith Peake. There's a solemn look on his face. Slowly he arches his back and eases his legs apart. "Touch my butthole again. Please." Keith's finger finds it. Just as sweaty. It yawns eagerly as if it were reaching out to suck up Keith's finger. He strokes it gently until Devon's eyes roll up and his lids come down. "Come on," Keith prompts. "Get that door open!" When the door slams behind them, Devon drops his backpack and shirt to the floor. "Well," says Devon, looking up at Keith "this is home." Keith kneels down to Devon's height. His eyes blaze into the boy's. He reaches over, planting a hand on the back of Devon's head, and pulls the boy to him. Lips press together. Devon, having never been kissed like this, jumps a little, but Keith won't let him escape. The man's tongue presses against his lips. Heart surging, Devon opens his mouth, and for the first time in his life a part of a man's body enters him. It is strange to the kid, very strange, and his mind whirls with thoughts and images and desires. But he sags against the man's strength, because he likes it. For Keith, Devon's spit is better than the finest wine. He gulps it. The boy whimpers. It's like that. When exposed to the awesome power of a man's sexuality, all boys shirk, awed. Keith breaks the kiss. A brief moment to glance round. A small living room, furniture cheap but clean. An open kitchen, clean. Several doorways. "Where's your room, Devon?" "Wow," says Devon. His hardon tents his shorts. He's leaked enough so it looks like he's peed them. "That was nice." "Yep. Call it extra credit. Now. Where's your room?" Devon grabs Keith's hand and hauls him across the living room, towards a closed door with a Transformers poster decorating it. The door bangs open. The bed is covered by a spread decorated with racing cars. At the head of the bed is a bookshelf from which a sad-eyed Eeyore gazes down. More Transformer posters -- and Pokemon -- are taped to the walls. Shorts and underwear and shocks lay scattered on the floor. A dirty basketball and a half-deflated soccer ball top out a bin of toys. Through the window you can see a playground teeming with kids. It is only now, here, in the boy's lair, that Keith's cock finally goes stiff. It throbs against the denim. Yeah! The hot slime of his lust oozes down his leg. Christ, he's ready to fuck. Devon senses it. Maybe It's a change in the funk Keith emanates. His eyes fall once again to the man's cock. He watches it throb and pulse against the fabric. He swallows. "Wow." "Yeah," Keith says, voice thick with lust. "Wow." He licks his lips. Gotta get this moving. Gotta breed that boy. "Where's your hand lotion, Devon?" Devon opens the drawer to his nightstand, and slams the bottle on top. "Sit down, Devon. On your bed." Devon sits. Keith struts over so his crotch is just inches from Devon's face. "See my cock?" "Yeah." "See your Daddy's cock, son?" "Yeah." "You know what I'm gonna do with my cock, son?" "Yeah, Mr. Peake." "What am I gonna do with my cock, son?" "You're gonna put it up my butt." "How much am I gonna put up your butt?" "All of it." "Damn right, boy." Keith kneels. He unties Devon's shoes. He pulls them off. The socks join them. "OK, Devon. Lift your hot butt up. I'm gonna take your shorts off." Devon rests his palms behind him and lifts his midsection. His dick spikes the nylon. The precum soaked fabric, right beneath Keith's nose, gives him a powerful rush. Keith grabs both shorts and boxers by the waist and slips them down. Yeah. He likes this circumstance. Alone with a naked boy, in his room, the sound of kids at play coming in from outside. Grinning wolfishly, he gazes at the boy's naked body. Slender limbs. You'd think they were delicate, except for the well-defined muscles of a boy who likes to run and to play and who is a wizard on the basketball court. Golden thighs, silky and smooth, slightly parted. Beneath the silky nutsack a hint of buttcrack. Yeah, the whole point of all this. Boybutt. Flat belly and a tiny navel. Armpits completely bare of fur. Throbbing four inch cock, leaking and wet. Slender shoulders. Nipples like budding flowers in the midst of his developing pectorals. Eyes, parted, hooded, wary yet excited. Tongue, protruding from between moist lips. Yeah. Sweet fresh golden chicken. Always item #2 on Keith's menu. Item #1 reads SON. Leaning forward, Keith nibbles on Devon's left tit. "Oh!" The boy jumps. Keith's fist engulfs the boy's dick. The man's big hand completely encompasses that throbbing shaft. Instantly precum oozes from the slit, coating Keith's hand. As his tongue slithers across the boy's chest like a hot leech he begins to jack the kid. "Oh - oh - oh!" Devon pants. "You gonna cum?" Keith murmurs. His lips suckle on Devon's other nipple. The boy squeals and fucks Keith's hand furiously. Precum sprays onto Devon's belly and Keith's chest. Grinning, Keith watches the boy shoot the clear fluid. "Yeah, boy, get that nut!" He jacks harder, prolonging Devon's ecstasy. Devon, hips pumping furiously, convulses and thrashes on the bed, his eyes rolled up, his lips opened by the shock of this intense pleasure. Keith, who likes watching boys cum, especially when caused by a grown man, frigs the kid relentlessly. Devon finally collapses back onto his bed, chest heaving. Keith licks the dripping precum from his hand. "You like that, son?" "Aw, yes, Mr. Peake!" "I thought you would, son. Daddies know how to make a boy feel good." Devon glances down the length of his body at the man squatting between his knees. "Is it like that when you put your cock up my butt? Is it like that for Jesse?" "Better," says Keith. *** Devon rolls his eyes heavenward. Up there, hanging from the ceiling, a mobile wheels, a cheap plastic thing of blue birds and angels. Devon's always been embarrassed by it, but his mom insists. Heh. He's gonna enter the world of men real soon now, just as soon as this big man enters him. He gasps. Keith's fingers flutter along the inside of his thighs. The feeling is weird, just like the moment before a bolt of lightning stabs down from a thundercloud. But Devon likes it. Keith knows it too. His fingers run from the base of Devon's nuts all the way down to his knees. Caressing a boy, right before his first fuck, is a moment Keith savors. He likes to watch their muscles quiver. He likes to hear their soft cooing. He loves the subtle tone of begging, of pleading, that underlies the sounds they make. Devon thinks of the leer on Coach Dusker's face when the big man assigned him this homework. He thinks of Jesse, laying on his back on Dusker's desk, while this muscled stud called Keith Peake plowed him in front of 20 horny young boys. He remembers how hard is cock was. How much he felt an ache in his butthole. It's Devon who can't wait. Slowly he lifts his knees, pulling them all the way up to his chest. "Put your cock in me, Mr. Peake." Keith, gazing down at Devon's upturned butt, licks his lips. The exposed pucker is tiny. And alive. It's as if it breathes. It squeezes shut, relaxes opens. It begs to be kissed. "Alrighty, son," says Keith, a huge shit-eating grin on his face. "Daddy's gonna start molesting you." Saliva dripping from his tongue, Keith lowers his face between Devon's honey-colored buttcheeks. He licks. Not at all gently. Firmly, and insistently. Yeah, Daddy wants in there. "Oh!" Devon starts, then relaxes. This is nice. He purrs like a kitten. This is very nice. Keith's tongue slurps on the tiny hole, slathering up the boy's most intimate space with spit. Down the crack until his face is pressed against the bed. Up, so that Devon's balls rest on his nose like ball bearings in a soft purse. The boy quivers. The feeling? It's just like when you're at the top of the roller coaster, right where the track begins to curve down, and you're getting ready to plunges forward. Devon's toes curl and uncurl while Keith laps at his hole. Time to get inside. Keith's tongue stiffens. He pushes into the tiny ring. Devon jumps, settles back. Oh wow. Oh that's really nice. Controlled by atavistic forces he can't comprehend, Devon pushes his butt against Keith's stubbled jaw, seeking more and more, as the long eel-like organ flails around inside of him. And Keith? Well, munching on a kid's butt is, of course, just an appetizer. But there's something cool, feeling a kid's sphincter contracting on his probing tongue like a rubber band. About tasting all of that secret, hidden flesh, moist, untouched. Tight. This kid is sweet. The gasps, the little cries the thirteen year old emits elicits drop after drop of precum. Keith feels the slime ooze down his thigh, just the way it used to when Keith was Devon's age. His lust growing more intense, needing more heat, needing to show this boy how much he wants him, Keith peels Devon's buttcheeks open and tonguefucks the boy almost down to the root of his tongue.. It's like an earthworm being forced into a succulent dark cave. Keith's tongue flails around, finds Devon's immature prostate, and abuses the hard secret nut. Devon's head snaps back. "Shit!" Now the kid really begins to understand. Begins to understand the mystery. Of why that blond slut Jesse virtually begged for the giant shaft his father sported. As the tongue probes Devon gets hungrier and hungrier. If you think of cutting a half-inch slit in warm, raw liver, and then stuffing your cock inside -- well, you've got some understanding of the feelings swarming in Keith's brain. Dadshaft throbs. Enough! Keith pulls away, tendrils of spit connecting his lips to the kid's cunt. "You like that, Devon? You like it when I lick your little butthole?" ""Hell yeah!" Devon looks down at the man. "Do it some more, Mr. Peake!" Keith blows on the hole. It dances for him, pulsing. Begging for fat, hairy, huge adult dadshaft. Shit. He can feel his balls boiling. He's gonna nut in this boy's ass. He's gonna fill it with cum. So much cum the boy's gonna be farting jism, for the next week. Talk about funk. Right now it's as if rancid steam rises from Keith's armpits. The smell of a rampant man obliterates the weaker odors of boy sweat emanating from old clothes, from piss stains on discarded boy briefs. "Later," says Keith. He reaches for the bottle of hand lotion. He squeezes out a good amount on his forefinger. "This is gonna be a little cold, Devon." "I know that, Mr. Peake." Devon's eyes fasten to the greasy teardrop on Keith's fingers. It's less than what he put on his own butt when he put the cucumber up there. Is it enough? He had to struggle to cram the cucumber up his cunt. Gently Keith smears the lotion onto Devon's butthole. He eases some -- but not much -- up inside the boy's rectum. Devon squirms as the man's finger penetrates him. "It feels like a couple of carrots!" There's something right about the greasy feeling the man's fingers leave behind. "You ever seen a salami, Devon?" Keith asks, withdrawing his finger, and standing. "A real salami?" "Oh, yeah, down at the grocery store they got 'em." "Well, boy," Keith says, jabbing his finger at his crotch, "your Daddy's meat is way bigger than that salami, and it's all going up your butt. Now sit up, kid, and unzip Daddy's jeans." Devon sits up. It's getting closer. He knows it. He feels it. He's sizzling inside. He stares at the giant shaft, outlined in denim, as it throbs and leaks. A man tempting a kid with his obscene instrument of pleasure. Reaching out, Devon gingerly unzips Keith's fly. Yeah, sure, he's seen what Keith's got hidden in there. But this is special. The first time Keith showed his cock for Devon and for Devon alone. Devon feels the man's meat throbbing beneath the denim. The air seethes with virile energy. The zipper descends. Pubic hair shyly appears, and then becomes more and more assertive and more and more abundant. Long, thick, curly. The thicket draws Devon's face forward. He breathes in the funk. Mansweat. Piss. Cum. The base of Keith's dadcock appears before Devon's worshipful eyes. Devon catches his breath. Ever since watching Keith fuck his son in Coach Dusker's health class, he's dreamed of this cock. Night after night of wishing this monster hovered over his bed, dripping saliva on his face. Wishing he felt some hairy weight on his back, wishing he felt some huge shaft shouldering aside his tight ring. The zipper is down. The fly is open. Keith stands naked from shoulders down to cock. "OK," Keith orders. "Pull Daddy's pants down, son." Seizing the jeans by the waist, Devon tugs. They slide over Keith's hard, round ass. Like a huge python, Keith's cock springs at Devon's face. Footlong daddycock, displayed to a thirteen year old boy. "Holy fucking shit," breathes Devon. Precum dribbles down the shaft like snot from a kid's nose on a winter day. Keith's nutsack? A pair of peaches has been stuffed into the hairy bag. Grinning, Keith lifts them, extending his balls towards Devon's face. "You like these nuts, kid?" "Wow." Looking at them, Devon thinks they're as big a planet. Two Jupiter's, full of that mysterious fluid he remembers bubbling in Jesse's open butthole. "Lick 'em, boy." Keith growls. "Suck on Daddy's nuts." Grabbing Keith's thighs, Devon leans forward. His head reels. The man's crotch funk engulfs him. Soon enough, Devon will experience amyl nitrate, and that moment will always take him back to this time. When a man first molested him in his own bedroom. Spit floods his mouth. Keith's hand grips the crown of his head. "Lick your Daddy!" Devon licks. They taste sweaty, yeah, but there's something else. Something Devon needs. It mysterious. There's some chemical, in the goo coating the man's nuts. An intoxicant. Something he needs to become complete. Devon smells pee, too, but not the kind of pee he smells in the toilets at Calhoun. The smell he pretends to not like but secretly, when his friends aren't looking, he seeks out. This scent of Keith's piss is darker, more pungent. He nibbles at one sack, then the other, foam bubbling on his lips and sliding down his chin. Keith can barely see the boy. The view is almost blocked by his gigantic shaft, throbbing and bouncing with each swipe of Devon's tiny tongue. His does feast his eyes on the upper curves of Devon's sweet, slender buttocks. And he wants them more than anything. There's not a lot of life experience that can match the sight of your own ballhair matted on a thirteen year old's face like a beard. But the sight of naked, hairless buttocks? Buttocks you know you're gonna be penetrating in just a few minutes? Keith's just as intoxicated as the boy is. "Good," Keith croons. Gripping his cock by the head he stands it upright, an obelisk of flesh. It is thick as the kid's arm. The urethra, throbbing, drizzling precum, is as thick as Devon's forefinger. "Now like this, son. Like it good. " "Wow," Devon murmurs. Eager as a puppy he sets to work. A flurry of tongue swipes slithers up the length of Keith's dadshaft. The man can't help moaning. It's like the mercury rising in a thermometer. Liquid cascades from his pisslit and Devon gobbles it up smacking his lips. "You like how that tastes, son?" Devon nods, eyes closed, too involved with feeding his addition. "Get it all." Keith pulls his shaft away. The boy whines. He points his meat right at the kid's lips. "Open up." Devon, eyes lighting up, opens his mouth. His tongue waggles lasciviously. Keith can't get much of his meat inside. You know that. There are few boys -- few teens, too -- who can orally service that titanic dadshaft. Together, though, they're able to get about half of Keith's cockhead into Devon's mouth. It is good for both of them. Devon suckles on the meat like a baby nuzzling a bottle and Keith just stands there, arms folded behind his head, leading lust into the seventh grader's mouth. Quickly Devon learns he can increase the flood if he lashes his tongue against the sizzling cockhead. "Tastes good, don't it, kid?" Devon's too busy to nod. He's a kid who's in the moment. Drool -- mixed saliva and precum -- glistens on his chin and throat. Trickles of it run between his nipples, racing for his hard, throbbing dick. "Yeah, son, you like that." Keith spreads his legs, letting his balls sway between his powerful thighs. "Daddy likes it to. You make Daddy feel good." The boy slurps at the clear liquid like gravy. Keith releases the boy, let's his hands hang at his side. He stares down at their union, the bridge of flesh that connects his furry groin with Devon's smooth lips. Oh yeah. Keith could piss. He's not quite got a full bladder, but it's there. But not now. Devon's not like Kevin. He's more shy. It'll take away before Devon goes for the gold. But when it does, Keith senses, it'll be hot. Golden boy drenched by golden flow. Oh no. This isn't a one-time thing. Keith wants this boy. And he knows Devon wants him. No kid, once they get a taste of the footlong daddycock, can ever say 'no' again. They've learned the lesson there's no such thing as the bad touch. Or maybe, more rightly, that they crave the bad touch. That, maybe, if the touch wasn't bad, it wouldn't be fun. Keith's there. Keith's gotta fuck. Gotta fuck tight young butt. RIGHT NOW. Keith grabs the bottle of lotion and pours a generous amount onto his hand. For a brief moment he contemplates it. How does he want the boy, now that he's about to take him? There's much to be said for having the boy face-down position on the bed, prone, his legs spread. Maximum vulnerability. It's the ultimate power trip. It is the very essence of a man molesting a boy. The thought makes Keith's balls burn. Then again, there's doggy style, which Keith likes. You get to watch the tight little hole expand enormously as it absorbs dadcock. You can gaze on those buttcheeks that've been tempting you for years. The eye candy of hairless flesh spread and on display. Breeding the kid, stallion to pony. Hairless balls hanging, the round butt, the pucker nicely hidden in the valley. The feeling of mastership, too, if you wrap an arm around the kid's waist and adjust his body for your pleasure. Keith decides. "All right, son," he says, extracting his cockhead from guzzling lips. "Lay back on your bed and raise your legs." Devon scrambles back onto his bed, arranging himself just the way the man commanded. Making jerking-off motions, Keith smeared the lotion along his shaft. What image won, as those thoughts warred in Keith's head? Why, the picture of Devon's face, screwed up with pain as the giant cock pries open his cunt. Devon, laying athwart his bed, hooks his arms behind his knees, holding himself almost double. "Good, son. Daddy likes that." Keith knees. He slips one greasy finger back into the boy. "I'm gonna fuck you, son. Daddy's gonna fuck his boy. Gonna fuck you like I fuck all kids. Good. Fast. Hard." Devon gulps. There's a dangerous light in Keith's eyes, one Devon's never seen before. The fire of lust. He twitches as Keith's cockhead eases between his buttcheeks. "Is it gonna hurt?" Tell the kid the truth? Beginning to put some weight on Devon's sphincter, Keith growls, "Yeah, it's gonna hurt. It's your first time and Daddy's got a big cock." Suddenly, Devon squirms, trying to escape. But Keith was ready. He places his palm on the boy's chest and holds him in place. "Too late for that, son. Daddy's gonna molest you. Now." Keith punches his hips. His giant dong spears Devon's hole. Devon howls. "Take Daddy's cock, son." A powerful push. With a pronounced slurping sound the apple-sized head of the footlong daddycock lodges in Devon's rectum. The sphincter stretches tightly around the spongy flesh just behind the flared glans. "Fuck yeah," Keith croons. "Son, you got a hot butthole." He grins wolfishly. "Daddy likes!" It's heaven in there. So tight. So hot. The way the muscles squirm, attempting to eject the invader. "It's too big!" Again, Devon tries to escape. "Ow!" Keith's free arm goes round Devon's lower back. "Settle down, son." Keith grunts. He pumps again. Two inches of fat shaft enter. This is the thickest part of his meat. The part all boys have to struggle to take, the part Keith has to struggle to jam inside them. In reality, it's absurd to expect a kid like Devon to take what Keith is putting up his butt. It would be as if the kid was jabbing his own arm up his ass. "Mr. Peake," whines Devon weakly, his eyes closed. "You want an A, son? You want an A in health, son?" "Mr. Peake!" Tears leak from the corner of Devon's eyes. "Yeah, you feel the burn. Yeah. I can tell. But listen to Daddy. It'll go. Daddy promises. It'll go away. Ride it out. Just like in PE. Ride out the pain, son, and then it'll feel good." That rectum sucks on Keith's shaft, begging for more. For a few moments there is silence. Man and boy are still not yet fully joined, hairy crotch to smooth butt. Keith pants. Devon pouts. Hearts beat. Sweat forms. Outside, the faint sounds of kids at play. Inside, the murmurs of a boy taking his first giant cock. "OK," Devon says weakly. "Hmm?" "It's OK, Mr. Peake., I think I can take a little more." Keith grins. "I knew you could, son. You're a good boy. You make Daddy proud." Four more inches sink into Devon's honey-colored butt. "And horny." Devon seizes Keith's shoulders. "Wait. Wait!" They are closer together now. The man's crotch fur teasingly touches Devon's upturned ass. The man is panting down into the boy's face. The man's shaft is of course bathed in pleasure. The boy's butt, slowly losing the terrible sensations of pain, is beginning to feel the pleasure he knew when he put those carrots and cucumbers up there. "Come on," urges Keith. Semen boils in his balls. "You get some more Daddy cock to take." "Wait," Devon moans. "I've got to stretch!" Sweat beads on Keith's nose, falls onto Devon's forehead. The bicep in the arm he's got wrapped behind the boy tenses. He can't take much more of this. He's gotta be balls deep in this kid. If he has too he'll drag the kid down his shaft. It's all going in this boy. "OK," Devon whispers. "That's a good son," Keith croons. He bends down and nibbles the boy's ear. He advances slowly. Each advance is a triumph. "It's too big, Mr. Peake!" Devon whines. Keith grunts. "Call me Daddy, kid." He jams the final four inches into Devon's straining butthole. Devon's eyes fly open. He's stuffed. He's got a foot of throbbing mancock in his underage guts. He's got giant pedophile cock fucking his sweet boy ass. And he's pretty sure he likes it. Likes it a lot. One of the most gratifying moments a man can experience is the sensation of his fat hairy nuts resting against a boy's smooth butt. Keith savors this moment. His wiry pubic hair scours Devon's flesh. Glancing down Keith can't see a single millimeter of cock. He throbs inside the boy. It's hot up there. Sweet. Tight. This is victory. This is conquest. Balls deep in a boy. The kid's rectum squirms feebly, struggling to eject the gigantic invader. No chance of that happening. "Ow," says Devon weakly. "Deep breath," murmurs Keith. "Deep breaths, son. Do it for Daddy and it'll all feel better soon." The boy sucks in air. "Not like that," says Keith. "Relax. Yeah. Try it again." The boy breathes in. Then out. "That help?" "A little. Could you pull some out, Mr. Peake? I feel like I'm gonna burst." "Sure, son." Gently Keith withdraws a token amount. "That better?" "A little." Keith, his quest achieved, can be more sympathetic. He understands. His cockhead was pressing on something up there. As his hairy shaft moves, though, a convulsion in Devon's rectum strikes, almost powerful enough to eject him. He slams forward again. "Oh, yeah," Devon murmurs. Keith's grin is triumphant. "Yeah. You like that son, don't you?" "Yeah, that was nice." Kid needs fucking, obviously. So Keith moves. Strokes the boy's insides. Not much more than an inch. But the boy likes it, almost as much as Keith enjoyed it. A slow smile spreads over Devon's face. So Keith does it again. Man and boy slide on each other like two sticks of butter rubbing up together. "Mmmm," coos Devon. "It feels good, doesn't it, son?" "Yeah." The boy wiggles his toes. "Could you give me some more, Mr. Peake?" "Sure thing, son." Keith pecks the boy on the lips. "Daddy's gonna fuck you raw." Smoothly, his hips moving like a graceful horse working up to a full gallop, Keith's strokes grow longer and longer. Patiently, he saws away at the kid's butt. He watches his cock emerge from Devon's rectum. The boy's anus slurps on his greasy shaft. Soft squelching noises come from their illicit union. You can forbid a man and boy from fucking but you can't stop them from liking it. Not even realizing it, Devon parts his legs even wider and, being a flexible boy, plants his knees on the bed. He's open and wanting to be bred. A primitive impulse reigns in his consciousness. The urge to be bred. Faster. More squelching. Farting noises join in as the giant dadshaft pumps air up there. Keith sees the look in Devon's eyes. Of course he's familiar with it. He picks up speed. Sweat mats the hair on his balls, coursing down the hairy spheres. As they smack against Devon's upturned buttcheeks they leave prints. "OK, son." Keith kisses the boy. His tongue searches for the boy's, finds it, and they duel in the slimy wet cavern. "You're a hot piece of ass." "Yeah?" Devon grins. "Like Jesse?"{ "Yeah, son. Now let's finish your homework assignment." Puffing harder and harder, Keith lays into the boy, ramming his big cock into the sweet night Devon's hidden up his honey-colored ass. A rapturous sigh escapes Devon. His legs wrap around the man's waist lightly. He doesn't want to interfere with the man's pumping, because that's the source of this unimaginable pleasure. Devon wants the man to know that the boy needs him. Oh, yeah. Daddycock is so much better than a carrot. Or a cucumber. The slapping of fat nuts against scrawny kid's ass reaches a machine gun pace. Keith shoves in, grunts. Stops, chest heaving. "What's wrong?" asks Devon. He shifts his butt, twisting it, wanting to feel that motion again. "Almost came," says Keith. "Daddy almost came." His cock throbs. He looks down into Devon's liquid brown eyes. "Let's try a new game, son." His cock slips out, smacking against his belly. Keith's nuts cling to the underside of his cock, primed and ready to fire. "But I like this one!" Devon's object is cut off as the man grabs him and flips him over onto his belly. Keith looks down. Grins. Nice. The Cherokee kid's butt is small, tight, and round. Lotion bubbles along the crack. Kicking open the kid's thighs, Keith watches the purpling butthole purse at him. Gotta have that. Got some butter to churn. Keith kneels, puts his face in Devon's buttcrack, and licks. No, the taste of hand lotion isn't appetizing. But the feeling of gooey, well-fucked kidbutt is something that can't be matched. And Keith needs a break. He's about to spew a gallon of daddymilk up there and he wants this kid to have a good fuck. Devon shudders, presenting his ass to Keith's stubbled face, as the man's lips and tongue work his abused hole. Keith stands. He grabs the kid by the hips and pulls him up onto his knees. "Hold your butt open, son," Keith growls, smearing more lotion onto his cock. The kid peels his buttcheeks apart. Kidcunt gapes, begging for cock. "Nice one, son. Nice butt. Now here comes your Daddy." Keith lines up and slams home. Balls deep in one awesome thrust. "Yeah!" exclaims Devon. "Yeah, son!" Keith spits on Devon's back. "Daddy's gonna fuck your brains out!" He pummels the boy mercilessly. His groin pounds that butt. It's the kid's fault, for being young and sexy. For having fuck-me eyes, for having that slender body, for having smooth skin, for being innocent, for looking at Keith's cock that way. Bam. Bam. Bam. Keith fucks, grunting, shoulder muscles bulging with power. Each powerful thrust hammers home to Devon how much Keith is in lust with his ass, and each thrust is, to the boy, a revelation of the divine. He wants nothing more than to be bent over and fucked silly by a giant muscle stud like Keith Peake. Or Coach Dusker. Or that lifeguard down at the pool, the one with the big dong that you can see even when he wears loose trunks. Or maybe just some random man who peeled open his pants and showed his cock to the horny kid. Far soon than Keith intended, he realizes he's in the home stretch. With a tight rectum like Devon Whitewater's, a man can't hold out nearly as long as he'd like. Roaring like a lion, Keith pulls Devon's butt and his furry crotch together. "Daddy's coming! Daddy's coming in your tight little butt!" Keith erupts. The sizzling stream of jism cascades into Devon. Roaring like Class 6 rapids the awesome tide of thick juice courses up the winding cavern of Devon's intestines. This is the most shocking thing Devon Whitewater has ever experienced. Sure, stuff comes out of his butt. But this? He feels it rising in him, a tide, a flood that makes his blood burn. Suddenly he's consumed with a feeling, something he knows but never experienced at this level of intensity. He rises and rises and then it bursts like a geyser. Gasping, his little cock jerking and spitting clear fluid, Devon cums. The man's cock fires volley after volley of rich breeder cum into the kid's hungry cunt. "Take it! Take it, son! Take your Daddy's load!" Keith puffs like a mating gorilla. His balls contract, squeezing out ups of breeder juice. "I'm inbreedin' you, son! Fuck yeah!" Then they're gone, these orgasms. Devon collapses onto the bed. Keith eases himself on top of him. Both are still joined by Keith's softening meat, connecting them like an elephant's trunk. Keith nuzzles the back of Devon's head. "That's gonna get you an A, son!" His cock slrups out. A driblet of white slime gushes from Devon's anus. "Close up, son," Keith says, panting. "Squeeze. It shut. You don't want to lose what your Daddy just gave you." Having been opened so utterly and completely, it isn't easy for Devon to comply. But he's a determined boy. He remembers the sight of Jesse Peake's open anus, bubbling with this same man's cum, and he remembers how jealous he felt in class, knowing that his butt wasn't full of a man's jism. So he squeezes his butthole shut. "Yep," says Keith. "That's good, son." He pops Devon's buttcheek. "Okay. Stand up. Where's your bathroom? I gotta piss." "Well, it's down the hall --" A golden boy. Keith, struck by an idea, grabs Devon by the hand. "Come on. Help Daddy piss." Huge dong swaying, naked man and naked boy stroll into the living room. Devon, who thinks it's really funny to be in the same room he and his mom share with his new man, gets into it. Grinning, he leads Keith by the cock through the open door to the bathroom. Keith stroke the boy's hair as he stands in front of the toilet and spreads his legs. He glances at the sink, where Devon's mom's curlers sit in disorderly rows. She doesn't know it, but her boy has started the road to becoming a man. "You're silly, Mr. Peake." Keith laughs. "And you're sexy, Devon. Point it at the bowl. That's right." Keith sighs. The man's cock shifts in Devon's hand. It grows heavy. The piss begins. Eyes full of wonder, holding the limp shaft that so recently was inside his ass, Devon watches the inch-thick stream of urine gush into the bowl. "I can feel it, Mr. Peake!" he says. The man's urethra swells against his palm. "Yeah, I bet you can, son," says Keith. Fuck yeah. Unloaded his balls. No his bladder. After several minutes the flood dribbles to a halt. "OK. Flush it, Devon. Then let's get dressed." A few minutes later both are outside on the porch. Devon, again clad in shorts and jersey, sits on a step. The shirtless man who just pumped a gallon of jism up his buts leans against the building. Devon fishes a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and slips one between his lips. Beginning to understand what it feels like to be an adult, he doesn't even bother to glance at Keith for permission. He lights it, puffs. Quietly, he says, "My butthole's still kinda sore, but not bad. It doesn't hurt." He winces. "Feels like I gotta fart like crazy." Keith scratches his chest. "You feel my cum up there?" Devon grins around the cigarette. "Hell yeah. Like someone poured a can of cream of mushroom soup up there." "Well, Devon, let me tell you something," says Keith, puffing his chest out. He's a stud, and he knows it. "You're gonna have to drop I -- my load -- but you wanna keep it up there as long as you can. Don't let it run into your underwear. Your Mom'll freak." "Coach Dusker said I could get extra credit if I showed him some man's cum running out of my butthole." Devon looks up. "You think I can show him your jizz tomorrow?" He winces. "It's gonna be hard to hold onto it all." "Well," says Keith, "you ain't gonna show him anything from the loads I just put up you. But ... "He pulls out his cell phone. "What's your number, Devon?" The kid tells him. The muscled pedophile enters it into his contact list. He rings Devon. The kid's cell chirps obnoxiously. "No, no," says Keith, as Devon obviously makes to add Keith's number to his contacts. "Don't put mine in there. Your Mom might see. You just keep it in the missed calls. Tomorrow, if you want that extra credit, you call me, and I'll do you on Coach Dusker's desk like I did my Jesse." He ruffles Devon's hair. "I gotta go, son. But you call me, any time you need a Daddy to molest you." The boy grins. "That'll be every day ... Dad!"