Date: Thu, 6 Jul 2017 15:42:16 -0400 From: tagenhard@aol.com Subject: Old Man Miller Please donate to Nifty to keep this site running for all our fun. This is of course all fantasy and such real life conduct is not condoned Or encouraged. Old Man Miller Part 1 By Tagen "Dad" I heard Colby say "Yea." I replied in that automatic response type voice you use when you are actually focused on something else but know you have to reply. "Dad." This time there was more insistence in the tone. I was doing my taxes, I wanted to get this done, and I wanted to be left alone. What the fuck do you want? Is what I said in my head. But in reality I sighed, put a smile on my face and turned to look at Colby. "What do you need son?" As I said it I noticed he had a wooden box in his hands. It made me think of the silverware box that my grandmother had. The one that held the special holiday silverware. All lined in velvet with two layers to hold the abundance of its content. Colby hesitated a moment "Promise me you won't get mad." Fuck, no conversation with a kid that started that way was going to be a quick and easy conversation. I really wanted to get these fucking taxes done. I held my smile and stayed calm. "Why don't you just tell me what's up and we will go from there." I wasn't going to commit myself to giving up the power of yelling. Colby took a deep breath. "Istolethisfrommrmiller." Came rushing out of his mouth all in one word. I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes. "Want to slow down and try that again in English?" "I stole this from Mr. Miller." He then looked down to his feet awaiting my reaction. Old man Miller died 6 months ago. The house got torn down 4 months ago. The house got sealed off by the police 5 ½ months ago after it got thoroughly ransacked. That left a two week window for my son to steal this or is he the one who ransacked the house? "So tell me." I paused waiting for him to look up at me. His head slowly raised and his soft blue eyes made contact with mine. "When exactly did you steal this?" Colby blinked a few times. "The day he died." he replied softly. I sighed and reran that day's events thru my head. Colby and I went over to visit the old man. He was our next door neighbor and in his 70's. Lived alone and I would check in on him every other day at least and helped him with things if need be. As I said we went over to just drop in as I do and Colby tagged along. I had been doing this for close to a year, and the old man and I were at a point where he was comfortable with me just walking in. Letting ourselves in thru the back door, I called out as we entered. There was no reply. We walked further in and I called out again only to receive silence. Standing in the living room I told Colby to stay there as I walked to his bedroom. I knocked on the door and pushed it open. There he laid on his back on his bed in only his robe, which had become the only thing he wore anymore. You knew he was dead by the color of his skin but to make sure I called out to him again as I approached the bed. I felt for a pulse even though I knew it was futile. "Is he dead?" I heard Colby ask I looked back to the doorway and softly said "Yes. I want you to go back home. Tell your mother that I will stay here to deal with this." Colby shook his head in acknowledgement but didn't move. "Are you okay son." I asked with concern. He sniffled a little. "Yea, I'll miss him." Then he walked away. Old man Miller had no family that I knew of. His wife died a long time ago when his only son was just seven and his son ran away from home right after his 16th birthday. He never had any other family visit if they existed. I got out my cell phone and called the police. They asked a lot of questions and had me stay on the line till a patrol car said it was in sight of the house. This took about 5 minutes in time. I hung up to go open the front door and as I left the bedroom I thought I heard the back screen door close. It didn't mean anything to me then but now I realized Colby had about 5 minutes in the house unwatched and this would have given him the chance to steal this box. I looked back to Colby. "Where has this been all this time?" "I had it hidden in my closet." He replied cautiously. "Why are you bringing this to me now?" "Mom will be doing spring cleaning soon and I'm afraid she will find it." I'm not sure if he was thinking that I would react more tolerantly to this discovery or if he was hoping I would become a part of the caper. I got up from behind my desk and sat down on the small sofa in the room. I pat the space next to me indicating for him to sit there. He climbed onto the sofa and held the box on his lap. "Why did you steal this box?" I was firm but gentle with my voice. "Because," He hesitated, looked away from me, as if he was deciding if this was the right thing to do. "Because of what's in it." "Hmm" I paused, "and are you going to tell me what's in the box?" "Please don't be mad at me." He sniffled as he reached into the box and pulled out a Manila Envelope and handed it over to me. I took it into my hands and stared at him a moment expecting him to explain further. But when it became obvious no more words were coming from him I turned my attention to the envelope. I noticed on the front of it written in marker was the name Colby and under it 2016, but nothing else. I must admit I was intrigued. Did the old man intend to leave this to Colby? I turned it over and opened the clasp. Flipped up the flap and pulled the contents out. WHAT THE FUCK OLD MAN? The words screamed in my mind but I fought to keep them there. Colby trusted me enough to bring me this and the last thing he needed now was for me to go ape shit and scream it out loud. There on my lap was my young son Colby smiling back at me from an 8 x 10 glossy photo of him naked. Colby's eyes were sparkling, there was a big smile on his face and his little pecker was hard as a rock. I picked the picture up and turned it over. On the back was written Colby's name and age and the date. I realized this was taken five months before the old man died. My hand was shaking as I set it down and picked up the next photo. It was from the same date and had Colby pictured from behind. There was also a third picture of him from the side. Steeling my voice. "Did Mr. Miller take these pictures?" "Yes daddy." Colby's answer was calm but soft spoken . "Did he make you do this? " "Oh no. He asked if I would and I wanted to." I knew the old man was a photographer as a hobby and had his own dark room in the basement although I never saw the inside of it. Next there were pictures of Colby dated about a month after the first ones. In these Colby again naked, was playing with himself. Fondling his hard little prick and small balls. Bent over showing his asshole to the camera and pushing one of his fingers into it. This one made my body shudder but I couldn't define why. There five photos in all from this day. The next photos were dated a month later which would be three months before the old man's death. There was another boy with Colby. He appeared to be a little older and the back of the photo confirmed this where it was written Riley 12 and Colby along with his age and the date. The first couple of photos were of them just hanging out together naked. Then the pictures went to Riley sucking Colby's prick. Colby sucking Riley's prick and last of all Riley fucking Colby in the ass. Both boys were smiling broadly in all of the photos. "Who is this Riley?" I inquired. "Don't know. He was just there. Don't know where he lives or goes to school." I detected disappointment in Colby's voice. "Did you like doing these things with Riley?" Colby's voice got a little livelier now. "Oh gosh yes. It was fun sucking his dick and having him fuck me." Well obviously they taught him the right words. "Did you ever suck Mr. Miller's dick?" "Ugh no. It was all wrinkly and shrunken. It wasn't nice like Riley's and yours." Wait, what? Did my son just tell me he thinks I have a nice dick? "You think Riley and I have nice dicks?" "Sure dad. If Mr. Miller had a dick like yours I would have sucked it for him." Colby said this straight forward like it was the most obvious thing. "Okay." I said slowly trying to calm my nerves. He said he would suck a dick like mine. Not that he would suck mine . "You know that this is wrong and naughty? Right?" Colby looked away from me and at his feet. "I like being naughty." he whispered He said it just like a little boy would who was admitting to have done something bad and was expecting to get punished. "You won't tell mom will you?" Oh fucking hell no way am I gonna tell her about this. She would have him clamped in chains and sent off to a church camp for the rest of his youth. And hell, he would probably end up getting more sex there from those two faced closet cases than if he didn't go. "No son, I won't tell mom. You liking to be naughty will be a secret between us." I patted him on his knee and he smiled at me. Two months before he died was a set of pictures of me and Colby naked in the shower of the old man's house. Colby and I had gone to the beach for a day and when we got back we found the road in front of our house dug up. It seems the water line feeding our house before the meter had burst. So the city was digging it up to fix. But this meant no water to our house. Old man Miller was standing on the front porch watching them when we pulled up and when my wife came out to tell me we didn't have any water, the old man offered to let Colby and I use his shower. I told him I didn't want to be any bother or mess up his bathroom. He said use the one in the basement. It was just like the one my parents had in their basement growing up. In the corner was an open shower head. The floor slanted towards a drain that was also used for the washer. There was no privacy or curtains. You just stood out in the open basement. I did want to get the sand and grit off of me, so I accepted the offer. There must have been hidden cameras because there were very good photos of me and Colby naked sharing the shower. There was nothing sexual about it. I didn't get a hard on or anything. But the old man included the pictures in the package . A smile crossed my face when I saw the next group of photos. They were photos of Colby in a cowboy outfit. I remember this clearly. Two weeks before he died on a Sunday morning, I went over to the old man's house and Colby was a few feet behind me. Entering thru the back door into the kitchen as usual I saw the old man standing at the kitchen sink in his robe. "Morning." "Eh, what's so good about it?" This was a fairly common response for him. He turned away from the sink and faced me. His robe was wide open and all his stuff was on display. I didn't mean to stare but I couldn't help but look. This would be me some day, this is the future for all men who live long enough. At one time I'm sure this was an impressive package but now it was shriveled and wrinkly. The balls hung obscenely loose and low. Gravity was a cruel reality. "Hi Mr. Miller, can I play the Atari?" "Sure son." Was all he said and Colby was off to the other room. It dawned on me that Colby didn't react to seeing Mr. Miller naked, almost as if it was very normal. The thought didn't go any further when the old man chuckled. "You'll figure it out soon enough. But once you do, take all the advantage that you can, because one day you'll be like this. Old, saggy and unable to even get hard anymore." Then he closed his robe and offered me coffee. I realized he meant sex but figured he meant with my wife. I fixed a leaking faucet in the bathroom. After I was done and had collected Colby from the Atari, the old man handed a box to Colby. "Here's a gift for you." "Oh thanks." Colby smiled and ripped the top off the box. "Oh wow. Really?" He squealed. He pulled out of the box a small cowboy hat, a vest, a pair of boots, a belt with two toy guns in holsters and chaps. You could see they were used. A little tattered and worn. I was surprised at Colby's reaction. He seemed to be more of an action hero fan. What city kid now a days plays cowboy anymore. But I felt pride that Colby was accepting this gift with glee making the old man happy. But now I realized there was more to it. The pictures were dated a week before Colby got them as a gift. So he had already worn these and were aware of them. In the photos Colby was wearing the cowboy outfit but naked otherwise. So there he stood with the cowboy hat on his head. The vest laying across his bare chest and tummy. The cowboy boots coming up mid-calf. But without pants the chaps highlighted the little boy parts hanging out in front. >From behind the vest cut off right at the top of his ass and the chaps strapped on under, framing the tight round little boy ass. There were multiple photos from all angles with Colby in the outfit. There were also photos of him sitting in a chair with his legs pulled up and his body slouched forward so that his asshole was on display. The little boots and covered legs accented the small pink hole. In one photo Colby held one of the toy guns in his left hand as he had two fingers on his right hand shoved into his asshole. The first set of photos with Colby naked surprised me because I was discovering what was going on. The second set of photos with Riley shocked me to discover my little boy had discovered sex. This set of photos were, well, they were erotic. I don't know why. Maybe it was the twisted way that a simple innocent boyhood outfit was sexualized or sensualized. I paged back and forth thru this set of photos lingering especially over the one where Colby's asshole was on display. "I'm glad you like these daddy." Colby almost whispered. I jumped a little, I had almost forgot he was there I was so zoned in on the photos. "You like me as a cowboy don't cha?" His hand rubbed across my crotch. "Your hard daddy." Fucking hell he was right. My cock was throbbing in my pants and with his little hand rubbing across it I thought I would shoot a load right then and there. I needed to get a hold of this situation. Fucking hell but he did look sexy in that outfit. What the hell's wrong with me? My mind screamed. I gathered up all the photos and flipped them over so I couldn't see them anymore. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm myself. "Did you ever see Mr. Miller naked?" I asked as I composed myself. "Yea every time he took pictures he was always naked." That explained his lack of reaction to the old man being naked in the kitchen . "But you never touched him and he never touched you?" "No, he did with Riley but I just watched." I rubbed my hand across my face. "What did he do with Riley?" "Riley sucked his dick and let him fuck his ass. Riley likes sucking men's dicks and he says it's fun to get fucked by them." I wonder if there is a way to find this Riley kid. Popped into my mind. I was trying to wrap my mind around the fact that here I sat with my little boy discussing man boy sex as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Is there anything else in the box?" I inquired trying to get my mind off of Riley. Colby held the box up and handed it over to me. I set it down on my lap and opened the lid. On top was another envelope with the name Riley on it and underneath it listed 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, and 2016. I guessed that 2011 is when the picture taking of Riley started and each added year indicated years that there were more photos. I picked it up and saw another envelope under that one. This one was labeled Brett and had each year from 2006 till 2016 listed. Under that was another labeled Chance with the first date as 2000 thru 2007. I continued fingering thru the pile of envelopes and counted a total of 30. With the oldest one being on the bottom and dated some 50 years ago . I felt impressed. 30 boys in 50 years and never caught. I hate to admit it but I thought good for you old man. The very bottom envelope was labeled Eric and had ten years listed . The site of this envelope put everything in to perspective. "Dinners ready." I heard my wife call out. I gathered up the photos of Colby and shoved them into the box. Luckily the previous owners of the house were jewelers and had a sizable floor safe built into a closet. I never really needed it before but was sure glad it was here now. I put the box in the safe and locked it up. We sat down to dinner and as my wife chattered on, my mind wandered to the box. The very first and oldest envelope was labeled Eric and that happen to be the name of the old man's son who ran away at 16. The first date listed if I estimated correctly corresponded to the year old man's wife died. The existence of this box explains the break in of the house two weeks after he died. The place wasn't robbed as much as totally torn apart. The police said it looked more like someone was searching for something. Someone who knew of the existence of this box or was one of the people pictured in this box wanted it. The envelope labeled Eric possibly explains the strange events that followed 2 months after the old man's death. One day I came home and saw a man I guessed to be in his fifties standing on the front porch at the door. I figured it wasn't a salesman since the doorway had yellow police tape sealing it off. "May I help you" I asked as I walked over to the house. He turned and looked at me for a moment like he was sizing me up. "Who are you?" He wasn't particularly friendly. "I'm Hal. I live next door. There was a break in some weeks back. So I kind of pay attention to what's going on." I said calmly but with a tone of suspicion in my voice. He turned back to the door and extended a key in his hand to the lock. He unlocked it and broke the police tapes. "I'm his son Eric, I'm here to deal with all of this so thanks but you won't have to worry anymore." And then he disappeared into the house. The next morning several large dumpsters showed up along with a crew of uniformed workers. Eric stood on the front porch and watched thru out the day as everything in the house was carried out and tossed into the dumpsters. Occasional he would stop a person and look at what they were carrying before waving them on. But everything right down to the old family pictures went into the dumpsters. The next day those dumpsters were hauled away and new ones dropped off. A construction crew showed up and you could hear the sounds of the interior being ripped apart. Plaster board and flooring and ceiling panels were carried out and tossed into the dumpsters. The place was being gutted. And Eric stood guard as the men worked. At the end of the day after Eric left there was one man left putting up caution tape. I walked over and said hi and asked him how the remodeling was going. He chuckled and said he didn't think it was a remodel job. That the whole interior was gutted to the point that there wasn't any where even a mouse could hide. Between you and me I got the impression the guy was looking for something he said . The next morning after those dumpster had been hauled away a bulldozer and an excavation digger showed up followed by dump trucks. The house was plowed to the ground. As the dozer smashed a part of the house down the digger scooped it up and deposited it into the trucks. By the middle of the afternoon not only was the entire house gone but the cement basement walls had been dug up and removed and even the front side walk was ripped up. Not one single piece of evidence was left to suggest there had ever been a home there. It was as if the old man and his sheer existence was wiped away. Eric stood at the corner of the lot and watched as arriving dump trucks were dumping in dirt to fill the hole in the ground. Since he was standing at my corner of the lot I walked over and stood beside him. Neither of us said anything as the work progressed till the last load was dumped and the dozer was leveling the dirt off. Then Eric said stoically. "You're judging me." "Hey, it's not my place to judge, but I do get the impression this was all an act of hate." Eric looked at me and stated coldly "He stopped loving me." And then walked to his car and drove off . Now Eric couldn't have known about the box or more specifically the amount of photos it held since he had run away. But he did know about his photos and maybe he was looking for them. I still didn't understand that level of hate but maybe I would after I looked in his envelope. "Honey, honey," "Huh." I responded. "Oh you haven't listened to a thing I said. You're probably doing the taxes in your head. Just go lock yourself in the den and don't come out till you're done." She commanded. "Okay, okay, sorry dear. " I got up and as I walked away I heard Colby say have fun daddy then giggle. My back was against the wall. Well to be truthful my back was against the now closed and locked door to the den. To my right was my computer waiting for me to fondle its keys so it could shoot out numbers to complete my taxes. To the left was the safe and concealed within the Pandora box calling for me to fondle myself and shoot out fantasies. The angel kept whispering in my ear taxes, taxes, taxes. The devil was shouting out loud. JERK OFF TO THE FUCKING PICTURES. Around and around it went in my head till the angel said, fine taxes first then porn. Oh an angel with a tarnished halo, I liked that. I turned to the desk as the devil called me a pussy. I was amazed how fast I could actually do my taxes when properly motivated. It was ten o'clock and I shut down the computer and sighed with satisfaction. I went to the kitchen and got myself a glass. My wife walked in so I filled it with water. She asked how it was going and I told her I probably had several more hours ahead of me. She kissed me goodnight and left the kitchen but as she did I asked her if she knew where that cowboy outfit that the old man gave Colby was. She said that she had told Colby to throw that dirty thing away. She really couldn't understand what Mr. Miller was thinking giving a used thing like that to a kid. Then asked what made me think of that. I shrugged my shoulders and said I don't know why but it just popped into my head. Silly she simply said and then left for bed. I poured out the water and returned to the den again locking the door behind me. I pulled out my stashed bottle of bourbon, and poured myself several fingers worth into the glass putting it to its originally intended purpose. My wife didn't approve of me drinking at home. Not because I got drunk or had a problem with it but just because that was the kind of uptight cunt she was. I of course mean that with all possible love. I needed to calm my nerves and took a few good sips before turning to the safe. Settling down into the sofa I set the box on my lap. I spread the photos of Colby in the cowboy outfit on the cushions to my right side. Picking up the next envelope labeled Riley I realized my hands were shaking slightly. After I pulled out the pack of Riley's photos I flipped them over so that I would start with the oldest ones first. Riley really interested me first because he was the boy who had sex with Colby. Second because he was apparently some where local. And begrudgingly I admit for a 12 year old really rather cute . The first couple sets of photos were just like Colby's with single nudes then nudes playing with himself and then followed by Riley in the cowboy outfit. Riley appeared to be the same age as Colby is now in these photos and I found them to be just as erotic. I found the one that matched up with Colby's where he was sitting slouched down in the chair with his legs spread and thru the little cowboy boots and the chaps there was the tiny pink rosebud calling to me. I set that one down next to the one of Colby in that position. I had another gulp of bourbon and felt its warmth spread thru my gut. Another set of photos had Riley having sex with another boy who looked to be around 14 and he was labeled as Brett. I looked back into the box and seeing that Brett's envelope listed him from 06 to 16 he must have been 9 when he started but was now 19. Flipping thru looking for the words Riley and Brett I found multiple sets of Brett fucking Riley from when he started right up till last year before the old man died. So Brett was also a current game player and a possible lead to finding out who Riley was. Riley's photos progressed from having sex with the 14 year old Brett, to photos of him sucking and getting fucked by a guy named Ralph but only for the first year. Photos of him and the old man having sex existed for every year that he was photographed. I wondered if the old man hadn't died, would he have progressed Colby in the same way. Would he create a pictorial history of him and Riley as Riley got older. Did he hope to eventually get Colby to agree to swing from his old meat? Would he have brought in other men to fuck my son? Flipping quickly thru the dates listed on the other envelopes I realized if I started with the oldest and worked forward I would be able to create a history of events. But for right now I decided to go to the beginning. Ground zero so to speak. The first boy, the old man's very own son. Pulling out Eric's envelope I realized it was much thicker than the rest. I stared at it as it sat on my lap. I refilled my drink from the bottle sitting on the floor at my feet. I took several gulps from the glass while staring at this package. I was trying to create the courage to open it. I knew Eric wanted this or at least wanted to know what happened to it so he could create closure. I saw firsthand what the results of this created in both the old man's life and Eric's life. I knew I could just get in touch with him and turn it over sight unseen and bring this to an end. I knew opening this and looking at his personal life as depicted in these pictures would be a violation of his privacy. I knew it would almost be like raping him. A long draw drained the glass, my hand shook as I ripped the envelope open. Without even looking at the pictures my cock throbbed in my pants. I had to free it. I opened my pants and shoved them down to my ankles. My hard cock throbbed to the rhythm of my heart beat out in the cool air. I flipped the packet of photos upside down on the sofa to my left side so I could start from the beginning. I reached down and grabbed the bottle and up ended it to my mouth. Fuck the glass. Putting the bottle down, I wiped my mouth across the back of my arm. I closed my eyes. Fuck you Old Man Miller for bringing me to this. I picked up the first picture and flipped it over without reading the inscription. Oh, FUCK you old man, you sick twisted bastard. I just knew where this was going and my cock bounced at the thought. A brightly decorated Xmas tree with piles of presents under it served as the back drop for a little boy dressed in pajamas and fuzzy floppy eared bunny slippers smiling from ear to ear as Santa Claus stood there handing him a gift. The photos progressed to show Eric as a boy ripping the wrapping paper off of the gift and opening the box. He pulled out a cowboy hat. He pulled out a cowboy vest. He pulled out a set of chaps. He pulled out a belt with two toy guns in holsters. He pulled out a set of cowboy boots. Here was the origin of the cowboy outfit that would one day adorn my son's naked body. The next photo showed Eric pulling off his pajamas. Then he was naked. Then he was dressed in the outfit with all his little boy bits showing and his little pecker hard as stone. Then he was standing next to Santa. Then Santa had his cock hanging out. Then you could see the naked little boy dressed in the cowboy outfit sucking Santa's cock into his mouth. Fuck you old man I thought as my hand wrapped around my hard cock. With my right hand slowly stroking myself I flipped the photos over with my left. The photos continued showing little Eric giving Santa a blow job. Ten photos in all. Then a photo graphically caught cum shooting out of Santa's cock head and spraying onto little Eric's face. I had to wonder, if Santa was the old man who was taking the pictures. Or if the old man was taking the pictures, who was Santa? The next photo was a close up of a smiling Eric with cum dripping from his sweet little nose and forehead and lips and cheeks. I realized my stroking had speed up. I flipped over photo after photo showing Eric in different poses in the cowboy out fit with my right hand avidly stroking my cock. And then I found it. I set it next to Colby's picture. The alpha, the first boy for the first time wearing the cowboy outfit. Next to the omega, the last boy, my son, some 50 years later wearing the same outfit. Both boys slouched forward with their legs spread and past the cowboy boots and the chaps, two little pink boy assholes calling to me. Whispering my name. Inviting me. FUCK -- YOU -- OLD -- MAN I grunted as four jets of cum exploded from the slit of my cock head, up into the air then arched and feel to the floor. My breath was jagged and short. I think I just had one of the best fucking orgasms ever in my life. What the fuck have you done to me old man miller?