Date: Fri, 11 Jan 2019 15:45:34 -0800 From: judom76 Subject: SECRET FAMILY CHAPTER 3 Secret Family, Chapter 3: Deeper than Blood Six Years Ago: "Hey! Quit that shit!" I yell at some white trash dude, who's just slapped his son upside the head so hard he actually bounced the kid off the side of his beat up old ex-forestry service green Suburban. We're in the Wal-Mart parking lot, and I've had my eye on this piece of shit for the last ten minutes. He's pretty hard to miss with his disheveled look, dirty clothes, and most of all, his foul mouth, He's yelling at his 3 kids constantly, not a single one over the age of 12. I'd noticed the children in the store, especially the little boy, with platinum blond hair, always a favorite of mine, skinny, and cute too. His clothes are too small for him, so his ass stands out, nicely packed into his little shorts, as does the bulge upfront. His hair's so long, I had to get close to see the puppy dog brown eyes hiding behind the bangs. What really caught my attention was the children's reaction to their father. You couldn't just see the fear painted all over their faces, you could almost smell it. He meets my stare, "Fuck you! Mind your own business, motherfucker!" he retorts. I don't break my stare, I want to see if this asshole will change his ways now that he knows he's being watched, or if he's such a piece of shit that he'll keep this up. He isn't a threat: average guy with an average build, but he's just a bit taller than me at around 6'1". He and the kids are about done with the groceries. The oldest girl takes the shopping cart back, the younger girl gets in on the rear passenger side. The boy, who's still crying and holding his head, stands near the open driver's side door. The piece of shit grabs the boy by the arm. "Shut the fuck up, you big baby!" the guy sneers. "Get in the car!" He shoves the boy to the open door. The boy's having a lot of trouble. Cursing under his breath, the guy grabs the kid with both hands and tosses him across the front of the car. His head hits the inside of the passenger door and he lets a shrill scream of pain. That's it, this fucker is dead! I toss my sunglasses on the driver's seat, making a B line to the guy as he's getting in. I have about 30 feet of distance to close. He sees me and stops, pulling his leg back to stand and face me. "How about you try that with me you white trash piece of shit!" I sneer. I have the devil in my eyes, I want him to fight back! His answer is to step up and try a haymaker right as his first punch. I can see it coming all the way. He doesn't know I'm left handed, which is always handy in a fight like this. I lean my head back and away to the left, so his punch misses by almost a foot. I use my weight shift to load my big bear paw left fist, then deliver an overhand left to the side of his head, just above his right ear. He's knocked to the ground, dazed, but still able to get to his feet quickly. I let him, I want to enjoy this. He charges me, trying to take me down, and I sweep right, grab his left arm for momentum and leverage, then throw him face first into the inside of his open driver's side door. As he collapses in a pile, I can see the blood smeared on the inside door from his face. The piece of shit rolls over, checks his face to find the large laceration on his forehead and a bloody nose, then stares at me, thinking. He slowly rolls to the cab door and starts to use it to help him to his feet. Looks like this guy might be stupid enough for a third round, I think. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, then lunges into the cab toward the center console. FUCK! He has a weapon! I lunge toward him, smothering him against the driver's seat and steering wheel. As I do, his right hand comes back out of the center console holding a black matte, subcompact semi auto handgun. I take my right hand and grab his right wrist. Then I take my left arm and smother his nose and mouth placing his head in a vise-grip. This causes him to become confused and worry more about breathing then the gun. I roll right out of the cab and take him with me, drawing the gun up and away from the cab where the three children are paralyzed in sheer terror. Once the barrel of the gun leaves the cab, I pull his hand down toward the ground so if it goes off it won't hit anything but the pavement around us. Crack!!! Crack!! The handgun goes off. People near us take cover, some scream and run. I use a leg sweep and take him down to the ground. He lands on his stomach, me on top of him. He's fucked now. I'm way too heavy and strong for him to shake me off. I slide my way up his wrist till I can get a good grip on the meat of his thumb and back of his hand, and I twist hard and fast, as I crank his arm back in an unnatural movement for his shoulder socket. The torque of the twist causes his hand to no longer be able control the gun and it falls free, clattering on the ground. I pull his arm behind his back, like you see cops do but I'm a little rough as I shove his arm all the way up and over to the far shoulder. There's a loud pop as his right shoulder dislocates. He screams in pain and starts flailing, but it's no use. I've gotten up, one knee on the center of his back, using his dislocated arm like a leash of pain to keep him under control. The more he flails the harder I yank. He finally figures out that flailing only hurts worse, so he stops and lies there, as the sirens in the distance get closer. The first officer to arrive is Sheriff Deputy Jared Benning, an imposing man standing at 6'4" and over 240lbs of muscle. He is classically handsome with a strong jaw and military short brown hair. He exits his vehicle with his gun drawn, I let go of the guy's arm but I keep my knee on his back as I raise my hands in the air. I quickly tell him what happened, and he recognizes the white trash lying on the ground. I'm detained for a little over an hour while it gets sorted out. It really wasn't so hard to sort out either. The children ratted on their dad and told the truth. The boy with the hematoma on his head, of course, spoke volumes. What really sealed the deal is that the piece of trash was a felon, just off parole, with a firearm that has the serial number filed off. What struck me as odd was Deputy Benning's demeanor toward me once he saw the guy and especially his little boy covered in tears and snot, with a head injury. He quickly put his gun away rattled off some cop jargon on his chest radio, policed the gun, then came over smiled at me, patted me on the shoulder and said he's got it. He then quickly kneels down hard on the guys back to take my place slapping cuffs on him. More police and the sheriff arrive along with an ambulance. The rest of the time I was there, Deputy Benning apologizes several times for having to delay me while they conclude the on-scene investigation. At the end of it the Sheriff's Detective in charge officially cleared me of any wrong-doing and shook my hand, thanking me as well. I actually spent two hours in that parking lot. The second hour was just me and Jared chatting. For some reason he seemed drawn to me and I thought he had the hots for me at first, but after the awkward declaration that I was "Bi", he got the hint and decided to clarify why he was so chatty. Jared was that little boy growing up, and then some. The only thing that didn't happen to him was sexual abuse. Jared went into the military fresh out of high school, spending six tours. When I asked for more details, he just smiled and said if he told me, he'd have to kill me. We had a good laugh, I didn't need to know the details, I knew Jared was a bad ass. It was the beginning of a brotherhood one that would go deeper than blood. One Year Later: 2 am Two large figures clad in black slip through the backyard of a large rundown rural residence. It's pitch-black, no moon tonight. The men wear military issue night vision goggles and carry semi-automatic handguns with large silencers attached. They disappear into the house through the back sliding screen door. Several slight flashes of light can be seen through the windows. It happens again in another room, then another. A few minutes later the two figures emerge each carrying a little girl of about age 12 in their arms. One of them also has on a large backpack. Both girls are wrapped in blankets. Twenty minutes later, both girls walk into the ER alone crying, not out of fear but out of joy, they are free. Present Day: Just after dark A large shadowy figure stands against the back corner of a house, peering into a window. Inside, a man can be seen reaching for a butane torch, lighting it and heating up his Dab bowl before taking a long hit. The music in the house is so loud, you can hear it through the walls. At the front of the house another black clad figure walks up, keeping out of the light coming from the single bulb that's still working on the porch. The shadowy figure reaches up and twists the bulb, causing it to break the circuit and go out. There's a knock at the door, the man inside walks over to answer it, while the shadowy figure in back slips quietly inside. The figure out front retreats and proceeds to slip around the back. The man peers through the peephole but can't see anything because the light's out. "Who's there?" No answer. "I ain't playing no fucking games!" The man barks as he pulls a nickel- plated, semiauto handgun from the back of his jeans. He unlocks the door, swings it open fast, pointing the gun out the door. He looks around the front yard, then steps out and walks up to the front of the garage, the whole while cautiously darting his eyes from here to there. He lowers the gun and walks back inside, slamming the door behind him. A few minutes later, one of the shadowy figures exits the front door, and heads across the yard, then down the street. A black SUV pulls up in the cul-de-sac, and backs into the driveway. The SUV has no lights on except for the reverse and the brake lights, both of which have been dimmed by light covers. The driver exits and opens the back gate, then briskly enters the residence through the front door, carrying a very large black duffel bag. Fifteen minutes later, the two men emerge hefting an even larger black bag. It sags in the middle as the two men carry it. If the porch light had been on, you'd be able to see that there's a body in the bag, struggling to get free. The two men toss the bag into the back. One of the men runs back into the residence, returning shortly carrying the original black duffel bag, however the bag is now stuffed full. He tosses the bag in the SUV, then turns and gets into the other SUV parked in the front drive. The two men drive out of the cul-de-sac, before turning on their headlights. The Next Morning: Same Residence BANG! BANG! BANG! on the front door. "POLICE! WE HAVE A SEARCH WARRANT!" yells a large officer clad in full tactical gear. CRASH! the ram takes out the front door, and half a dozen officers flood inside, doing a room by room sweep guns drawn, finding no one home. Over the course of the rest of the morning, the police collect copious amount of drug paraphernalia, evidence that the house was used for trafficking. The police also find pictures and videos of little girls, as well as a handgun that would later be linked to a multiple murder case in the next county over. The pictures and gun were well hidden, however the Sheriff's drug dog managed to locate the secret hiding place because it'd been dusted with meth the night before. By noon a BOLO is out for one Justin Franks, who's wanted on charges of drug trafficking, murder, and child pornography. The police suspect that when his girlfriend never returned home with Dakota, he knew something was up and fled. His reputation with his employers is totally destroyed once it hits the news that he's fled on kiddie porn charges, and that no money was recovered in the raid. You see, Mr. Franks had recently moved up in the world, not only trafficking drugs, but he had taken on the added responsibility moving large amounts of cash around. Justin Franks is never seen or heard from again. Three months later a multi-jurisdictional taskforce with the assistance of the DEA and ATF, make a series of 17 raids across 3 states. The raids catch almost all of the 43 wanted in connection with evidence found at the house, and also evidence obtained by Sgt. Jared Benning during the search of Justin Franks SUV found abandoned at a known drug house way out in the country 3 days later. What only 2 people in the whole world know is that the scene was entirely staged, and the evidence was manufactured based on information obtained from over 40 hours of `interogation' of the late Mr. Franks. Jared gets a promotion to Detective a few months later for his work on the case. Across Town: I'm exhausted as we leave a lawyer's office who's also a notary. I'm accompanied by Blake, Jared, and our lawyer Christian. This particular lawyer is a good friend of Jared's, and for a reasonable price will help out someone deserving of his talents. Blake and I both hug Christian. "Thank you for all you help, Christian," I say, a huge smile on my face. "Of course! You two will make great parents, that boy deserves you." He replies warmly. Christian takes his leave, heading to his BMW coupe. It's been a busy day, Jared nor I slept last night. We spent the morning with this lawyer, then we all went to meet with Dakota's Great Grandmother. Jared came with us, wearing his uniform to help smooth things over and let us move quickly. At the courthouse , we met the only family court judge in the county. Jared was there too, once again smoothing things over. With the evidence that was brought to him and listening to Dakota's story, the judge gladly began the process of making Dakota our son. It'd take several weeks of paperwork to strip Franks of all his rights, so the process is just now a matter of time. The judge granted us temporary custody till all the paperwork is finalized. Dakota is ours! Jared and I say our goodbyes, Jared hugs Blake. Blake and I kiss, he's headed back to the hospital to get Dakota ready. I have one more stop to make before I join them. I pull into the bank parking lot and grab a large metal briefcase. I take a seat. Even though I'm exhausted, I couldn't be happier, I'm all smiles. There's a hot ginger boy sitting at the account service desk, undressing me with his eyes. I've seen the look many times before. He's a muscle worshipper, so much so he's unable to contain his lust. I smile and give him a wink. He's cute but at this distance appears a bit too manly for my tastes. It's too far to see if he blushed, but he did break eye contact for a sec and looked down like a school boy, so I'll presume that he blushed. The young woman that was helping me is standing in the assistant bank manager's office. Through the glass wall of his office I see him hand her a set of keys. She then turns and heads out of his office toward me, seated at her desk. As she arrives at her desk, the ginger boy shows up out of nowhere. "Hey Chrissy, I can take him. You have lunch soon anyhow." The ginger boy states with a big smile on his face. Up close the boy is actually quite cute and younger looking than I expected, much shorter too. Bright strawberry blond hair, and a stunning set of blue eyes. He's only about 5'4" but he's stacked, more than likely a wrestler in school. Now I typically prefer twinks, but a short young hairless little muscle stud suits me just fine. He has great taste in clothes, his slacks show off the rock-hard mounds at the back, but there isn't much of a bulge up front. Now this peaks my interests even more! "Hi, Mr. Trobeski, I'm Dylan." A big smile on his face, his hand outstretched, and his eyes darting across my body as I stand to shake his hand. "Call me Joe." I reply. He shakes firmly and his grip lingers much longer than any straight man would be comfortable with. I just keep smiling at him. He takes the keys from Chrissy and we head toward a set of stairs in the back corner of the bank. This bank is unusually large and also quite old. It has the classic gothic bank look from days of Bonnie and Clyde, and Al Capone. We head into the basement, then turn down a hall that's flanked with doors. At the end, there's an open vault door to the safe deposit boxes. I'm just slightly behind him as we walk side by side. I tell him, "You look good in those pants, especially from this angle." a sly smile on my face. "Thanks." blushing as he looks back at me. We retrieve my safe deposit box, and Dylan escorts me to one of the private rooms off the hall. He enters and places the box on the table, I follow and close the door as I enter, locking it. He turns and sees what I've done then smiles nervously as I place my briefcase on the floor. I don't say anything as I begin to unbutton my white dress shirt then pull it from my pants. He's awestruck once my shirt's off. He might as well be drooling as I walk toward him. I pull him in for a kiss, he melts into me. He grabs my arms and begins squeezing my muscles as his hands wander my upper body. I break the kiss. "Strip!" I command him. He quickly does, the only thing left on is his red thong with his hard cock jutting out, tenting the elastic material. I can tell he has a small cock and balls from the bulge and is shy about it. I love small cock so this will be fun! I undo my belt and unzip my pants shucking them to the floor, then push down my underwear to expose my half hard cock. As I reach out and fondle his boy bulge, he moans. I pull back the waist and slip the red thong down to mid-thigh and inspect him. His cut cock is only about 4 ½" long but thick for its length, his balls also on the small side. He has no body hair and he's impeccably groomed. Being a ginger, he has milky skin dotted with freckles, and all his fun bits are a bright almost neon pink. YUM! I grab his throbbing nub of a cock and stroke it, while I start kissing him again. I push him back up against the table, which is bolted down. How convenient! I get down on one knee and take his stubby cock to the hairless root while I cup and fondle his hairless boy sac. He lets out a long moan, as I begin to work his cock in my mouth. He's short enough I can swirl my tongue all over the head and shaft while still sucking it. His pre-cum is sweet, as I work it from his pink piss slit. I stand and kiss him, then lean back against the table next to him, he knows what to do as he kneels in front of me taking hold of my cock at the base. He rolls the thick foreskin back over my fat purple head, then begins running his tongue over the smooth shiny surface making sure to go after my pre-cum. He takes the head into his mouth and eases a few inches of shaft down, then retreats and does it again, each time getting deeper. He manages to get a good 5" down, but at this angle I've hit the back of his throat. The pressure from hitting the back of his throat feels nice on my cock head. He's well-trained. He doesn't use his hands, instead they're busy roaming my hairy muscular body, feeling up my massive thighs and kneading my firm hairy ass. He also gets off on my muscle gut, squeezing and pushing on the solid muscle sheath under the coating of hair. I lean forward and contract my abdominal muscles causing the once slightly bulged out smooth muscle sheath to curl inward and contract into a thick 6 pack. He really gets off on that and begins rubbing his hands up and down the meaty washboard, feeling each lump under his hands. What he liked most were my pecs, kneading on them, and eventually reached around the side under my arm pit and actually closing his hand around my pec mass, grabbing it like you would someone's bicep, then rhythmically squeezing the giant slab of hairy Daddy muscle. "You're a good cocksucker boy, How's that boy pussy?" I ask as I look down at him sucking my cock. He looks up at me and has a distinct note of shame and maybe even some fear in his eyes. "Sorry it's not clean right now... and I only use condoms. We'd need A LOT of lube, too." He stares at my torso instead of looking me in the eyes, the shame that he can't perform for me as a bottom written on his face. "It's OK, can't be ready 24/7. You do swallow though, right?" I say reassuringly. He smiles sheepishly and nods, "Yeah." He answers as he resumes sucking my cock vigorously. He really goes at it this time, keeping one hand on my shaft to stroke while he sucks, his other hand back to worshipping my thick hairy body. I let him suck for a few minutes, but we can't be here all day, so I pull my cock from his mouth and take over stroking it, while with my other hand I pull his face down and into my big clean-shaven balls. He knows what to do and starts licking and sucking on the large orbs in their velvety pouch. I pound my cock, trying to force a quick orgasm, with the help of the ginger boys' mouth. I'm close, so I grab him by his hair and force my cockhead into his mouth while I keep stroking my shaft. A few moments later 4 big spurts of cum flood his mouth and run down his throat. He doesn't spill a drop: while his ass obviously needs some work, his oral skills are commendable. I stand him up, kiss him, then push him against the table and suck his stubby boy cock to completion. His moans were pleasant to my ears because of his height, he had a higher pitch to his voice, so his moans reminded me more of 13yo boy than this college boy jock. As we both got dressed, I was thinking about how that was just what I needed, having been so wound up the last few days. The rest of the day should be much easier now. Dylan excuses himself so I can get down to business. I check the door to make sure it's locked, and then place my case on the table. I flip the combo locks and pop the latches, then open my safe deposit box lining it up next to my steel briefcase. Inside my safe deposit box, is a small wooden decorative box with a few sacred mementos from my life. Next to it is a large black metal gun case. I take that out and set it aside. At the back of my safe deposit box is just short of $150k in cash wrapped in plastic, and under that a small leather documents pouch. I pull the pouch out and unzip it. Inside the briefcase I retrieve a wallet, which contains a driver's license and several fake credit cards. While the license has my picture on it without a beard, the name and all the other information aren't mine. I put the wallet in the bag, zip it up and put it back. I reach back into the briefcase and pull out a fat brick of cash encased in plastic wrap. Jared has a matching brick of cash; we estimate there's about $500k in each brick. I take out my knife and flip it open, using it to delicately cut a slice into the brick. I reach in and slip out two bundles of cash wrapped in rubber bands. They're both stacks of $100 bills and based on the thickness, there's about $5000 in each bundle. I put a good chunk of cash into my wallet, take the rest and slip it into my front pocket. Tossing the other bundle in my briefcase, I place the brick in the back of my deposit box. I open the black metal gun case. The case is empty except for two brand-new untraceable 9mm barrels, and two new firing pins still in the box. I reach into the small compartment in the lid of the briefcase and pull out a 9mm handgun with a silencer and laser sight. I pop the silencer, unscrew it and put it in the gun case, I remove the clip, double checking that the chamber's empty. I put the gun and the clip in the gun case. I reach back into my briefcase pull out two more fully loaded clips and a box of armor-piercing ammo. The clips go back into the gun case. I close, lock, and put the case back into the safe deposit box, followed by box of ammo. I look into my briefcase, and pull out a small baby blue photo album, it's beat up and the cover is torn. On the center front is an oval picture frame and in that oval is the face of Dakota as a baby. I open the photo album. It's mostly empty except for a few dozen photos of Dakota when he was really little with his mom, grandparents, and his great grammy. There are 3 photos with his father. Two are just the two of them. I pull those out, rip them up as tiny as I can and put the pieces in a small pouch in the briefcase, I will burn them later. The 3rd is from the day he was born, it's in the hospital with Dakota being held by his mom, Franks' sitting on the bedside, with Dakota's dead grandparents, and great grammy on the other side of the bed. I decided to keep that one, as I pull all the other photos from the dingy torn album, and gently slip them into the briefcase. I close up the box and my case and leave the room. Dylan's waiting for me at the end of the hall, we put my safe deposit box back, I give Dylan's ass a grope, then leave. Looks like I have one more stop to make before I head to the hospital. I swing by a shop that I know has great digital printers and have copies of all the pics made. They also have some decent looking photo albums, so I buy two, one will go to Dakota's great grammy, and one is for Dakota. I make sure Dakota's has the originals. Now off to pick him up! Blake and I walk toward the large children's playroom. We're greeted by the nurse. There are six children present including Dakota, all 10 or younger. Dakota has a new teddy bear with him as he sits in a corner reading alone. The nurse informs me he's having trouble socializing with the other kids, not a surprise considering what he's been through, but we'll fix that! I have a huge smile on my face and when he sees me, he lights up too, I kneel down, take the book and the teddy bear, out of his hand and pick him up, bringing him into a tender hug. "The monster's gone." I whisper in his ear. He looks at me, not believing me. "He's gone, I made sure of it. You're our baby boy now. Would you like to come home with us? He starts to tear up and nods his head yes repeatedly. I kiss him on the lips, don't know why I just did, he blushes and smiles. "Are you hungry Dakota?" Blake asks. He nods yes. "What would you like?" "McDonald's," he doesn't pronounce it quite right, but close. Blake and I chuckle and agree to his request. We leave the hospital. I carry him the whole time, never letting him go. The hospital staff bathed him and got some new clothes overnight. I keep giving him little kisses and running my fingers through his clean hair. I realized we don't have a car seat, oops! Guess I'll add that to the shopping list for this afternoon, too. We head to Mickey D's; Dakota loves his happy meal and toys. It's actually the first time I've seen him play with a toy, which is reassuring, especially with what I have planned next. We pile into the SUV and head across town, I tell Dakota we have to pick something up before we head to his new home. We pull into the strip mall and drive down through the long parking lot toward one of the big anchor stores. It's a weekday the lot is pretty empty, so we pull into a good spot. Dakota looks out the window at the toy store, then back at me expectantly. Blake and I both smile at him. We can see the hope in his eyes, but he's still not sure. "Are you ready to buy a bunch of toys and new clothes?" I ask him grinning ear from ear. "Really!?" he asks about to jump out of his own skin with excitement. "Yep! We can spend the rest of the day here if you want, and we'll get you whatever you want too." He kisses me on the lips and hugs me with his one good arm. We spend the next four hours buying everything a 6yo boy could need. Books, clothes, toys, stuffed toys, two car seats, a bunch of games, sundries, you name it. Blake's SUV was packed, and I used up a good chunk of the cash I had on me. I've never spent money frivolously, but when it came to Dakota I didn't hold back. We head home. Dakota's in awe as we enter through the front gate, meeting the two dogs. He was scared at first, but after getting a lick bath from the two of them, everything was fine. I was exhausted, so I took Dakota in the house, while Blake unpacked all of his new stuff. I asked if he wanted to take a nap. He said yes, so we headed to our bedroom. I set him down on our King bed, then kissed him on the lips and hugged him. I gently took off his arm brace, then his t-shirt, then replaced the arm brace with a kiss. I laid him back on the bed, and looked at his small, skinny body. So tiny, so beautiful, I lean down and kiss him on the lips, then slowly kiss my way down his body till I reach his nipples. I kiss his nipples and let my tongue dance across them. Dakota shudders and coos at the attention. Good, he has sensitive nipples. I don't spend much time there. Now isn't the time for that. I kiss down to his belly button, then back up to kiss his lips again, as I unbutton his shorts. I slowly take down his khaki shorts, exposing his new Spiderman undies. His undies are tented, so it looks like he really does have sensitive nipples. I remove his undies. Dakota is now lying naked on our bed. I forget about time, I have no idea how long I've knelt and stared, taking in every detail of his perfect naked little body. His beautiful milky skin, the face of an angel, his body looks like a work of art. His 2" cut baby cock is hard and slender, throbbing with his heartbeat. I continue to watch him as I begin to undress. I unbutton and take my shirt off, Dakota is captivated, lying motionless just staring at my upper body. I unbuckle my belt, then undo my slacks letting them fall to the floor. Dakota stares at the huge bulge under my designer underwear. I smile and use my thumbs to push them down, then step out of them and walk up to the side of the bed. My half-hard cock is growing with the pulse of every heartbeat, as Dakota stares, my daddy cock only a few feet from his face. I let him watch as my cock slowly rises to full mast, pulsing in the air. I reach over to the nightstand and push a button on a pad, the automatic blackout shades begin to fall over the bedroom windows. I lie Dakota down in the middle of the bed, then get in beside him and pull the sheet over us. I lie on my side and roll him, so he's facing me, and his broken arm is up and cradled against me. My lower arm cradles his head and back, while my upper arm is free to caress him as I kiss his head. Dakota's other arm is between our bodies. I have to leave a pocket between us to protect his broken arm. This allows little Dakota to begin petting my chest chair like he's petting a dog. I run my hand delicately up and down his body several times before I start to pay attention to his little boy butt. I trace my fingers up and down his crack just at the edges, then I run a single finger very slowly up his crack till I brush his tiny hole. He squirms a little to the touch. I do it again, this time I leave my finger there and very gently tease his hole and perineum, he squirms and coos pushing his head into my chest. He then lifts his leg up toward his body and pushes his butt out, giving me easier access. Ever so gently, I keep stroking, so he's positively purring. He begins to suck his thumb. I slowly pull his hand out of his mouth. He looks ashamed, but I simply shift myself a bit then take his head and put it to my nipple. He looks me in the eye, "Suck it." I say. He takes my large nipple in his mouth and tentatively sucks, slowly relaxing into it. He needs this, the closeness and the bond. In a way so do I. I stroke up and down his body slowly and sensually. His sucking slows then stops, his breathing changes and my little naked Dakota is asleep in my arms. I look at him and think about all the things we'll do together, and all the fun we'll have together in this bed. I notice his cock's hard and I'm hard as well, I smile. We're both hard for the same reason. We're sharing intimacy not sexuality. Just before I drift off to sleep, Blake comes into the bedroom, gets undressed and comes to kiss me. As I close my eyes, the last thing I remember is the sound of the shower running, and an overwhelming sense of peace and happiness holding our naked little son in my arms.