Surrogate Sexual Awakening
By Rob Loveboy
Anton Bergski was 32 when he lost his wife to a drunk driver. A fitness instructor with the title of master sergeant commander in the army, he was left alone to raise his 8 year old son, Damon. He longed for his departed wife. He was never able nor did he know how to go about dating other women. The strikingly handsome man was often set up by wives of friends, any one of which he could have taken home and used for a night to alleviate his manly desires had he been inclined. Since Fran’s death he had lost all interest in women and sex.
Something happened deep inside his psyche; Anton began to lust after the youth cadets, 13 to sixteen who were under his care during their three month summer boot camp experience. The camp was intended to prepare them for military life down the road, should they choose that career path later in life. The position kept him home to be with his son and not somewhere fighting another country's battle of the month.
Anton fought off the impure thoughts of 120 boys under his gymnasium physical fitness programme doing calisthenics completely naked --a lesser known military training tactic to instil self-confidence and prepare them for the reality of a no-privacy life in the military. These cadets would learn to shit, shower and jerk off together by the end of their first year boot-camp stint. It was not unusual to see boys jerking off in the morning communal showers, or while rinsing off after a strenuous day of training. --another encouraged practise quietly condoned by the military. Older boys who returned every year set examples for the younger rookies.
Leading by example, Anton would sometimes shower with the boys and pound his meat until he blew a load over the black tiled floor. Not something the military would necessarily approve of, but no rules stated he couldn’t. His assistant, 22 year-old private Boris Dolyniuk was no stranger to the military’s unwritten grooming policy having spent his teen-years at cadet camp. He thought his superior’s ‘hands-on’ technique of training rather odd never having seen other instructors naked let alone, masturbating. Boris knew what side his bread was buttered on, kept his mouth shut and proved himself as a worthy assistant trainer by following his master’s lead.
His homosexuality concealed, fostered during his youth at camp, Boris fought long and hard to be assigned to a youth camp program and Sergeant Bergski’s unique approach was a breath of fresh air. He could shower with the boys and do the nasty in front of them without raising suspicions
There was something about the masculinity of it all that encouraged Anton to zealously promote the military’s silent doctrine. Boys were made into men in many ways and means during their stint in the army camp; boys jerking off together could only enhance comradeship later in life away from home fighting someone else’s war.
Anton’s son, Damon, was the light of his life. So much like his mother with his longish blond hair and steel-blue eyes; His fine facial features were almost identical to his mother’s, sadly, the memory of her in his son was heartbreaking and ever present.
Damon loved his father even more since that awful day that tore him to pieces. His father’s strength and constant presence comforted him. They went on many outings; camping under the stars, rugby matches; movie cinemas, to mention but a few. However, his greatest enjoyment was when his dad took him to the cadet base and he proudly watched his hero at work. Like a school teacher, he thought, stern yet fair, and the cadets seemed to look up to him.
Later, Damon saw boys of all ages naked in the change rooms. He even saw Boris, a man, who’s thingy looked like a Polish sausage jutting out and curved over rather large testicales that swayed when he walked. Little did 10 year-old Damon know that the man was semi-erect because of the eye-candy in his midst. Maybe it was even partially due to the gorgeous young boy sitting on the nearby bench trying not to be too obvious. Anton never showered with the cadets if his son was present. The boy had never even seen his father completely naked so it was understandable that his curious was piqued with glances around the locker room, especially centred on Boris.
It was some days later when Damon told him he wanted to shower and not bathe like a little boy in a tub any more. Anton was miffed by his son’s sudden judgement on boyhood evolution. That was the first indication that his boy was maturing; it scared the fuck out of him, he wanted Damon to stay a child forever.
Damon was a bed-wetter at times, however, less so at ten years-old. After the boy had such an accident he would appear at Anton’s bedside naked, shake the man awake waiting to be invited to sleep with him. Anton cuddled the boy and both would go back to sleep. The housekeeper took care of the soiled bedclothes the next day.
It was that same night Damon let it be known that he was not a little boy any longer that Anton saw him in a different light. Cuddling the boy, his cock grew hard as he thought about his deceased wife and the replica of her in his bed. Anton lightly pinched the sleeping boy’s nipples and ran his hand down the satin skin as sweet and tender as his lovely Fran’s had been.
Mixed feelings rushed through him like a freight train. His cock, hard as rock contained in his boxer-briefs, was pressed against the boy’s lower thighs and began to slowly hump the crevasse between Damon’s closed legs. Anton, in a state of mindlessness, stretched the waistband of his briefs hooking it under his balls.
Unencumbered, the heat radiated off the boy’s thighs over his modest seven-inch cock. He was lost in oblivion. His heavy breathing alone should have woke the boy as he slithered up the bed and manoeuvred his throbbing dick between his son’s full rounded plump bare cheeks, a feature that Anton admired in other boys. He gently nestled his cock in the tight confines like a ball-park frank in a bun. Anton could feel his slime laying a slick path up and down the boy’s crack.
In the heat of passion, his forearm held the boys hips tight against his crotch while he dry-fucked him, but to his surprise, when his hand accidentally grazed the immature genitals, he began to fondle them. He’d not seen Damon naked in quite a while, a velvety uncut cock and testis hung at least two inches. He placed his pinky finger to the first knuckle inside the delicate thin foreskin and lightly massaged the penis head. Amazed, Damon began to react and was fully erect, Anton couldn’t resist the urge to masturbate his son’s three-inch, nickel size in diameter shaft.
Suddenly, moments later, he was cumming and smearing the sleeping boy’s crack and lower back. Anton slept peacefully the rest of the night and by morning his cock was glued to his son’s ass, hating himself for what he had done
He was all but on top of the boy who never stirred a muscle as he literally peeled his cock from the boy’s cheeks, his pubic hair like ripping a band-aid off. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He had never touched a boy before, his own son being his first. His cock stirred again thinking about several of his platoon members. He stroked his cock mildly then madly until Damon stirred. He swiftly pulled the sheet up a foot or two to his waist quickly hiding his excited cock placed back in his underwear.
They had breakfast, Damon in his little robe, Anton only wearing his tight crusty white boxer-briefs stained a yellowish hue dead centre. Damon’s robe hung open at the chest, past his navel covering his goods momentarily until his left upper thigh was revealed nonchalantly eating his cereal and looking at a comic book.
Lovingly looking at his son Anton said without really thinking, “How about that shower you want instead of a bath?” He hesitated and added, “I’m going to have mine now, we can share the hot water.” He didn’t know why he made the invite but the ten year-old looked up from his comic book, stood quickly, read the last blurb of whatever had held his interest and darted to the bathroom.
He was already standing naked, the robe at his feet when, moments later, Anton followed. He showed Damon how to regulate the water to prevent from scalding himself and, as he was doing this, he tried to ignore the pink hue of Damon’s genitals over the milk-white skin accentuated by the well sun-tanned body.
Anton never hid his nudity from the boy, per se. When at the public swimming pool he simply turned to quickly change as any modest man would do. He had all of three seconds to question the morality of showering with the boy but concluded that it was his son and permissable despite the stirring of his cock. Anton removed his underwear and saw his son’s jaw drop, eyes widen, unable to peel away from the manly display of five semi-hard inches of fat meat. Once in the shower, Anton turned front and centre to his son allowing the water to cascade over both their bodies.
Damon stared in awe at his father’s goods as Anton soaped his hardening cock. The boy’s eyes grew wide as the cock grew longer by the inch. With a sly smile up at his dad, the man looked down at his son and without thinking, said softly, “You can touch it if you want, Damon.”
As if it might bite him, Damon gingerly placed his palm under the shaft and lifted it to admire the low-hanging man-balls underneath. Seeing the boy’s interest in his gonads, Anton took Damon’s other hand to reassure him that he could touch those as well.
The man was then rock hard. Damon had wrapped his hand around his father’s cock while weighing the acorn-size, smooth-as-silk testicles. Little would the boy know then that his father meticulously shaved his balls and manicured the dense bush of black curly hair arching the base of the mesmerizing appendage, thick as Damon’s wrist, that had grown before his eyes.
Anton knew what he was doing was shamefully wrong, well over the limitations a father should go with a curious son. However, he wasn’t thinking logically. In desperate need to blow a load, he placed his hand over the top of the boy’s own and slowly masturbated.
Damon looked up at his father dumbfounded. He saw the man’s face in what looked like agony staring back down at him but a smile reassured him that whatever was happening was strangely okay. He stared at his father’s pink pee slit that seemed to pulse and spit out several gobs of snot-like goop onto his face and neck, his dad grunting the whole time until just a drool of the white stuff hung from his cock swaying in the air like a pendulum.
Anton came to his senses after he finished face painting his wide eyed son with the head of his bulbous cock. He had come very close to inserting it between Damon’s lips when he was cumming and was ashamed and embarrassed at what he had done. He began wiping the semen from Damon’s face with a cloth. He knew that an explanation seemed in order to play down the lurid incident.
Anton held the puzzled boy’s chin up and looking down into his son’s beautiful eyes said sternly, as if a lesson was to be somehow learned, “You have now seen the virile fluid that brought you into this world, Damon. Man’s sacred seed to impregnate females, . . . you remember our little talk of the ‘birds and bees,’ don’t you?” Damon nodded his head. “When you get a little older, you will rub your dick because it feels nice and produce your own semen. Daddy has shown you how, as all fathers do this for their sons, but it is our secret, yes?”
Damon nodded his head in understanding. One of life’s mysteries had been revealed, not to mention what boners were for besides needing to pee badly in the morning. He peered down at his own shrivelled up, tiny mushroom capped penis and wondered when the magical transition would take place. He couldn’t help but ask his father, “When will I get a big boy’s penis, papa?”
“Damon, you are no longer a little boy, you are ten now. first, stop calling it a penis, only little boys use that word, it’s called a cock.” With nothing to lose, and the lurid, yet titillating vision of his son beating his meat, he blurted, “I’ve taught you how to make it feel nice, that’s called jerking-off, I suggest you start doing it in your bed at night. Practice; and it will start growing.” Anton laughed and ruffled the boy’s long wet mop of hair and added, “Also, you’ll squirt the white stuff before you know it.”
Damon hated bedtime. However, he looked forward to it later that night. He would begin training his ‘cock’ without delay. It was all he thought about during class that day. He was often distracted from Mr. Kossiac’s instructions as he was looking at the bulge in his teacher’s trousers wondering if the man’s cock would be as big as his father’s manhood.
Anton was having similar thoughts during his day at cadet camp. A new batch of recruits had arrived to replace the older teens that had graduated from the academy to hopefully serve their country. Ten new boys barely thirteen years old, all clad in tight white shorts, t-shirts, socks and shoes; even white boxer-briefs, all army issue, who were lined up at attention for Anton’s standard inspection and lecture regarding rules and regulations of his cadet camp.
Anton knew that Boris, a medical student, was giving newbie’s medical examinations, although they had all passed physicals before hand. Boris’ specialty was ‘preventative’ hernia exams and not just for the new recruits either; he also gave regular check-ups to the seasoned cadets. Anton often found a reason to enter the medical room and envied the young man holding up a cock while his other hand examined a boy’s nuts under the false pretence of a basic medical procedure. A proper examination required an erection, he claimed. Anton knew what Boris was up to and turned a blind eye to it. After all, there was no harm done; and if Boris found entertainment from it, so be it. Not one complaint of inappropriate behavior had ever been lodged against the young handsome doctor to-be, and in the military, one didn’t go around poking his nose looking for dirt unless orders came down from the top, or a formal complaint was filed.
Anton looked over the new boys who jumped to attention at his presence. Donned in just their underwear awaiting a medical, his eyes took in their beauty right down to their manufacturer’s designed pouches; the tight material left little to the imagination, an appetizer for when he would see them in all their glory at shower time. From experience, Anton knew that the new boys would suffer a sense of inhibition, covering their junk with both hands. The older cadets would taunt and tease the new cadets, themselves baring all without modesty, until self-confidence and peer pressure and sometimes even by playful physical force, would the newbies relax and expose all shamelessly.
That day, Anton was exceptionally horny. He thought about his son in the shower that morning and how easily he could manipulate the boy. He was tired of jerking-off after his wife’s death, and later, in front of his cadets. As stimulating as it was, even masculine and macho, the care-free attitude that he was striving to instil in his cadets went far beyond the military’s unwritten agenda of the shameless, instinctive male need to masturbate. It was a chance he took along with Boris by convincing himself that it was an innocent ‘lead-by-example’ philosophy; after all, he wasn't a paedophile, was he? He’d never touched a cadet that way. He would jerk off thinking about his deceased wife and the great sex they had enjoyed together. Occasionally his eyes wandered to one or other of the masturbating boys under his care and guidance but he quickly dismissed the impure thoughts.
* * *
Boris was usually content just having them pull down their underwear, or in some cases, doing it himself if a boy was too shy. He would fondle their genitals while he probed the groin area knowing exactly how to get a boy embarrassingly erect. The temptation of performing oral was overwhelming. Often he would end up with his dick hard and leaking. That day he succumbed to the temptation.
Pieter Dranski was the most beautiful thirteen year-old Boris had ever seen. Sadly, the boy’s long, dirty blond hair would be sacrificed later that day by the barber. He had piercing steel-blue eyes, a handsome square face and a bronze swimmer’s torso that had seen lots of sun.
The sight of Pieter’s basket directly in front of the seated man caused his cock to spring to attention in seconds. The flaccid shaft, thick as Boris’ own, displayed itself left in the tight white underpants, plump strawberry-size testicles filled the right side, the outline prominent in the shrink wrap-like confines. Boris’ cock throbbed, the wetness seeping a dark stain in his grey sweat shorts, an aversion to wearing underwear since childhood.
Boris was no stranger to cock. He was seven when it first started. His two older brothers, who were 15 and thirteen and used his mouth and ass at will, sometimes at the same time. Other than being painfully fucked the first few times, he liked his brothers’ cocks, and those of their friends, and grew used to being gang-bang fucked along with an assortment of cocks to suck, his favourite activity.
Pieter followed orders standing in front of the seated officer and tucked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxer-briefs and slid them down to mid-thigh. Four inches of uncut thick boy-cock was exposed almost completely blocking the cherry-size orbs seen partially peeping from either side of the man-size cock. Intriguing was the almost hairless groin, Boris could have counted the blond pubic hairs sprouting above and on either side of the delicious looking thirteen year-olds dick.
Boris’ experienced hand trembled as he played the doctor role, feeling, massaging and squeezing the kid’s genitals. His fingers encompassed the growing shaft that red-faced Pieter was struggling unsuccessfully to stave off to no avail. Six inches of salami jutted straight forward. The officer’s mouth was close enough to Pieter’s crown that he could feel the man’s warm breath over it.
That time Boris could not restrain his emotions and dared all by taking the boy’s cock into his mouth. Both hands went to Pieter's ass and squeezed the soft buns as he pulled the boy into his face. It had been a long time since Boris had a cock to worship and fell to his knees off the chair, his favorite submissive position. Sucking and bobbing like a mad man, his forehead slapped Pieter’s belly repeatedly, his breathing heavy inhaling and exhaling through his nose not daring to release his oral grip in order to fill his lungs. He learned long ago how to perform quick blowjobs in places where the threat of being caught were high in order to receive his just reward of a mouthful of jizz before any interruptions prevent it.
Only one other time had he abused his authority and took advantage of a naive new cadet, 14, telling the boy that he detected something in the groin and that by masturbating himself, Boris would soon be able to tell for sure. For this ‘examination’ he had the boy lay prone on the cot for comfort to beat his meat while Boris ‘examined’ the boy’s exceptionally large luscious testicles. A cup at the ready, the semen sample would need to be lab tested for absolute assurance that a hernia wasn’t present. Boris blew a load in his shorts when gobs of milky white boy-cum vollied a respectable amount into the receptacle. The kid stopped pumping himself for some reason and Boris took over giving the boy shit for not following through on orders and milked him until the last drop dribbled from the pee slit. Turned out the kid had a very sensitive cock after ejaculating. Boris had thought the kid was wincing in delight at his handjob.
Once the boy departed, Boris poured the potent semen collection in his mouth and licked the small paper cup clean. Like a junky getting his fix, he was satisfied once again.
Pieter did not try to get away for two reasons. First, his father, trying to make a man out of him and in the interest of male bonding, had taken him to a brothel for his birthday one month earlier where he got his first blowjob from a whore his father was fucking from behind, and learned to like oral sex very much. So, if the officer wanted to suck his cock, so be it. Besides the man was much better at it than the whore. Secondly, he was told by his father in no uncertain terms that if was expelled from the academy that would make a man out of him, like he was in various other schools, he would find himself homeless and living in the streets. Surely he would be powerless to defend why he punched an officer in the face, nobody would believe him.
As luck would have it, his superior officer walked in just at the moment he had a mouth full of boy-cock unloading its nectar. There was no denying what Boris was doing. Anton stared and said nothing for a long while. He watched the scene unfold before him as Boris struggled to pull-up the kid’s underpants over his wet erection, as well as his own shorts he had opened to masturbate himself.
Anton looked at the boy who was covering his genitals. He was red faced and scared as if he had done something wrong for which he would be in trouble. How easy it would be to molest him, Anton thought. The boy’s thick ruby-lips looked inviting enough to cause his dick to become painfully hard just like it had been that very morning with Damon’s hands on his genitals.
Instead, it took every ounce of courage to tell the boy to dress and leave. He didn't need much prodding. In his rush he was almost tripping even before his left foot found the right leg of his underwear. Anton watched the boy hastily leave the room with his underpants on backwards only to face his laughing peers heard from behind the closed door.
Boris was a handsome young man. Anton had always suspected the man’s sexual preference but, on that day, he confirmed it without any doubt. What to do about it was now the unfortunate question. Boris had been loyal to the military as well as to Anton and the academy. The cadets like and respected him for the last three years. Boris had to consider that attribute in the officers favor.
Boris knew that his military career was probably finished along with his military paid college funding. He searched for words but could not find any. There were no lies to be conjured to cover up what his superior saw with his own eyes. Boris made a move to rise from his knees, however, Anton instructed him to remain as he was
Anton asked, “How many boys have you molested here, Private Dolyniuk?”
“I swear, Sir, that was the first time I lost control of myself on camp, Sir.” he lied, not mentioning the boy he made jerk off under false pretenses, but came to his senses and confessed. “One other boy, Sir. I watched him masturbate according to my instructions, Sir.”
Anton was impressed. The man did not have to reveal that, and in doing so, it told him that Boris was telling the truth.
“Do you consider yourself a homosexual, Boris?”
“Yes, Sir. Very secreted one all my life, Sir.”
“I admire your honesty. Your good reputation outweighs what went on here. I certainly didn’t see the boy trying to get away from you, therefore he must have liked what you were doing to him. As far as that other boy who you made pound his meat in front of you, I did not see that, Private Dolyniuk, therefore I consider it heresy.”
The relief on Boris’ face was a mixture of shock and euphoria. He straightened up his back and saluted his superior office. Sir, thank you, Sir!” he shouted.
Anton walked over to the young man on the floor, opened his pants ever so slowly watching Boris looking back up at him in a confused state, and swallow hard. Anton released his desperate cock pointing it at Boris’ mouth.. Without a moment’s hesitation, Boris took his commanding officer’s offering into his mouth, hell, he would bend over the desk and take it up his ass if the man wanted him to.
Anton closed his eyes and enjoyed the pro going at him. He had a way with his tongue, mouth and fingers that sent shivers up and down Anton’s spine. Although Boris would have loved to pleasure the man far greater, time was of the essence and he took care of matters even surprised himself at how quick the man was in blasting his tonsils.
Anton would have liked to have given his first blowjob to Boris. Matter of fact he craved doing so, though he doubted he would perform as well as the career homosexual, Boris. Anton was very confused about his sudden possible sexuality shift. Was it because he could never find another woman to replace the one he lost and somehow his pent up need for sex with another human being had found a surrogate outlet?
“Thank you, Boris, I needed that.” he humbly said.
“Sir. It was my pleasure. And if I may say so, Sir, off the record of course. You have a very nice cock and anytime . . .”
Anton cut him short. “Dismissed private.”
“Yes, Sir!” he saluted. “However, Sir, this is my office, Sir?”
Anton laughed and walked out to muster the throng of boys left unsupervised entertaining themselves in various physical ways one does in a gym. Back to business at hand, he assigned them to their respective units, their team would be waiting to greet them in the mess hall
* * *
That night Anton sat in his comfy chair clad in only his robe watching TV. As usual, Damon, wearing only white briefs planted himself on Anton’s lap and lay back with his head against his father’s chest. Anton ran his hand up and down the boy’s satiny thigh, something he often did subconsciously as a sign of affection. However, that night a strange compelling urge forced his hand upward, two fingers caressed the underside of his son’s developing testicles.
Anton was hard, the boy’s ass fidgeted over the hardness as if he knew what he was doing would drive the man crazy. Damon spread his legs wider, a definite indication that he liked his father’s touch to his privates. The nice sensation caused him to bone up.
Anton was well aware of what was happening, the boy’s tight underwear tented and his marble-size nuts receded. He nonchalantly ran a finger up and down the underside of the three inch shaft encased in a yellow stained thin white cotton. “You want to sleep with papa tonight?” he asked, knowing what the boy’s response would surely be, but not sure why he made the proposition.
Anton tickled Damon as he carried the giggling boy over his shoulder to his bed and tossed him on it. His cock stood pointing upward when he dropped the robe from his shoulders, Damon’s eyes were glued to the manly display. Anton crawled under the bedding, encouraged Damon to do the same holding the covers up until the boy crawled underneath.
Anton cuddled his boy to his chest, his slimy erection easily found its way between the vee of Damon’s upper thighs. He felt the small erection pressed against his groin as he held the boy tight to his body. He began a slow dry fuck picking up the pace and excitement which le to rolling Damon onto his back and swung his full weight on the boy as he pistoned into the soft warm crevice calling out his dead wife’s name.
Damon felt his daddy’s big cock rubbing along his balls. He enjoyed his father’s tight hug; the man’s hairy chest tickled his face and nose. Even when being suffocated by the man’s large frame, he never complained. He found a pocket of air as he listened to the man’s raging heart beat and heavy breathing, as well as, the utterance of his mother’s name several times.
As Anton came, he pulled out from between the warm confines of the boy’s sweet thighs and jerked-off over Damon’s belly and genitals much to the boy’s intrigue. His own intrigue was seeing Damon’s erection for the first time. It was sleek and shiny, marble-size balls held tight in his scrotum and tucked close to his groin. Anton reckoned his son was on the verge of early puberty as he neared his eleventh birthday.
He couldn’t resist stroking the boys cum covered cock as he explained what they had just done. No, it wasn’t a form of jerking-off as Damon first thought. It was called fucking. He and his dad had “fucked” each other. Until then, the definition of the dirty-word was meaningless and the mention of it at school would get him in a heap of trouble. However, Anton assured him that between them, it was okay to say the word at home.
Anton masturbated Damon with vigour for at least a half-hour until his hand became too sore to continue. The urge to taste his first cock was stalled trying to get the boy off by hand. There were a few moments of orgasmic hope when Damon admitted to a tingly feeling throughout his body and a need to pee. Anton assured him that the sensation was bringing him near a dry orgasm, but it never happened. Damon was disappointed, but his cock was red and tender by then. Anton went down on his son finding he rather enjoyed the taste and smell of boy. Damon’s foreskin was long even when erect, Anton could pull it over the boys clan about an inch and flick the tip of his tongue inside it. Damon thought it tickled, but admitted it felt nice. That led to another sexual education when the boy questioned why Anyone would want to that.
Anton carried on sucking the boy-cock with vigor hoping for a last minute orgasm and not knowing how close the kid was to his first orgasm when he began fidgeting and saying he felt something in his groin.
He looked up at Damon and said. “Let it go, son. Just relax and let your body take over.”
Damon did exactly that and Anton was rewarded with a stream of piss. They laughed about that, Anton saying, “So close, yet so far!”
He let his dad snuggle into him and they fell into a good night’s sleep.
To be continued...
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