Warning: The following is a work of fiction and does not relate to any real person or event. It describes explicit sexual activities between very young boys. If this is not what you are looking for, you have no excuse for reading any further. If it is, then enjoy.

C. O. R. E. E.

by

Cosmo

`Suck my dick,' said Alvy.

We were standing in Alvy's bedroom. Alvy already had his jeans open and had pulled the front of his underwear down. I didn't expect him to be so blatant about it, but no sooner were the words out of his mouth, his little brother Cory got down on his knees and readily enveloped Alvy's hard little dick in his mouth and was sucking on it like a popsicle. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

`Chrissakes Alvy!' I exclaimed, `He's your brother!'

Alvy stood there, almost oblivious, for the moment choosing to ignore the little boy's ministrations on his cock and put his hands on his hips, facing me, completely unfazed.

`Ah, but he's not,' he said, as though about to reveal a big secret, `Not really.'

I stared at Alvy blankly, not understanding.

`What then? Half brother?'

`Nope.'

`Don't tell me... he's adopted?'

Alvy shook his head.

`Not quite. You see, he's not a real boy.'

I was confused, and pulled a pained expression.

`He's A I,' Alvy went on, `Artificial Intelligence.'

`What?' I said, screwing my face up in bafflement and annoyance. He wasn't making any sense.

`He's not a real boy,' he said again.

I stood there and looked down at the diminutive little figure that was still on his knees, gorging on Alvy's boner. His beautiful blond head was bobbing away contentedly without protest, without comment, his little ruby lips forming a perfect O, making Alvy's cock all wet and shiny with his spit.

`You mean...?'

Alvy nodded slowly, relieved that I was starting to get it.

`He's cybernetic,' Alvy said at last, `One of the new generation of specially engineered shota boys.'

I looked down at Cory and then back up at Alvy, taking in the expression on his face, still not quite able to work out if he was telling the truth.

`But he's so...'

`Real?' Alvy interjected.

`Well, I mean...'

`I know, it's unbelievable isn't it?'

Alvy had a pleased, almost smug expression on his face, and at that moment I knew he was not lying. I knew it was true because suddenly everything fell into place. The only reason we were having this conversation was because I happened to notice that Cory was always standing in the yard when the school bus collected Alvy every morning. His little brother was always there, seeing him off as he left for school, and yet Cory never went to school himself.

Of course, it made sense in other ways too. For one thing Cory didn't look anything like Alvy. Alvy was pale-skinned, and he had that sultry mane of wavy, black hair, and emerald green eyes. Like me, Alvy was very slim, perhaps slightly bigger built, and a couple of inches taller than me. Cory, on the other hand, was very svelte, blue eyed, darker skinned and blond.

Alvy reached down and gently squeezed Cory on the shoulder. The little blond boy looked up, releasing Alvy's hard dick from his mouth.

`Thanks little buddy, you can get up now.'

Cory got up off his knees and stood between us, looking innocent and demure. He wiped his lips with the back of his little hand and smiled sweetly. It was the first time I had seen him close up. I admired the pretty little boy, looking him up and down, and I noticed just how small he was. His compact little frame barely reached chest height next to our twelve year old bodies.

`How old is he?' I asked.

`Ask him,' said Alvy.

`How old are you Cory?'

`I'm six,' the little scamp replied, in a perfect little high-pitched voice.

`Why don't you show us your body?' Alvy suggested.

Cory immediately complied. Unquestioningly, he slipped off his little t-shirt and put it on Alvy's bed. Shirtless, he removed his little sneakers and socks, then he unbuttoned his jeans and took them off. Last was his cute Pokemon print underwear, which he slipped off and put aside, creating a neat little pile of clothes on the bed. His little body was perfect in every way. He had a slim, taut, lithe little figure, with great definition for a kid of his age, and he had such attractive musculature that I would have been proud of a body like that. His skin looked slightly tanned and had a lovely warm glow to it. He had delicate pink little nipples, a well-defined line down the centre of his chest, and a flat, tight tummy with a cute little innie belly button. His little bubble butt was perfectly smooth and round, with quite long, sturdy-looking legs and he had the cutest, neatest, perfectly proportioned little cock. I started to get a hard-on.

`See,' said Alvy proudly, `He's perfect isn't he?'

`No shit,' I said, dumbfounded.

Fascinated by his authenticity I almost absent-mindedly reached out and stroked Cory's hair. He watched me as I did so, waiting to see what I was going to do, but not at all fazed by it. He had a thick mop of straight blond hair, so I took a handful and felt it between my thumb and my palm. At first glance it appeared to be made up of tiny little strands of gold.

I looked at his little elfin face and studied his features up close. His skin was flawless, clear and bronzed,  with the texture of terracotta. His big, eager eyes were bright and clear and round, with an almost supernatural shade of azure blue -- the only thing about him which didn't look altogether human -- and they were framed by two little smudges for eyebrows. He had the longest, most seductive eyelashes I had ever seen, a neat, slightly upturned little button nose, and thin, pink, inviting lips. The kid was so unbelievably good looking that I was unable to encompass that he had actually been created to order. Was it conceivable that he had been designed to such superior specification that they had literally thought of everything -- right down to his perfect little cock and the downy, almost translucent little hairs on his forearms? He was exquisite -- perfect right down to the last detail -- the finest example of human accomplishment I could ever imagine.

Alvy watched me studying Cory in awe and admiration, and he was smiling proudly. And he had good reason to be proud. Not only was Cory his little `brother', but Cory had been designed by Alvy's father.

`My dad made him,' said Alvy, `He is the most advanced and the most sophisticated of his kind. Indistinguishable from the real thing.'

`You're not kidding,' I said, still breathless with disbelief.

`He can do everything a real boy can do...' Alvy continued, cryptically adding, `...and more.'

`Like what?' I asked, fascinated.

`Just watch,' said Alvy, confidently, and then he turned to Cory, `Make a woody for us.'

Cory stood there with his hands resting by his sides and looked down at his little dick. He was not in the least bit self-conscious. We all three watched his perfectly proportioned little dick as it gradually rose up, slowly filling up and growing in size until it was stiff and pointing up at forty five degrees, the skin rolling back a little, tantalizingly exposing the pink little head. My own boner was fully distended and filling the front of my jeans watching all this.

`That's a beautiful little woody,' I said.

`I know,' said Alvy, `and he can cum too.'

I stared at Alvy in disbelief.

`He can!' Alvy insisted, suspecting I was about to call him a liar.

`Jerk off for us,' Alvy commanded.

I could see Cory's little hand about to wrap itself around his stiff little dick.

`No don't!' I protested.

Cory stopped, his little hand grasping his crotch, and looked up, appealing to Alvy for clarification.

`OK, don't jerk off. Save it for later,' Alvy relented.

`Christ!' I exclaimed, breathlessly, not quite able to comprehend what I was witnessing.

It was quite amazing. No wonder Alvy was so intent on demonstrating what Cory could do. He obviously liked showing him off. This beautiful little boy, for all intents Alvy's younger brother, was so compliant, and was so shockingly willing to please without any hint of protest or question. The thought that Alvy had unfettered access to this little boy, to do whatever he wanted, whenever he liked, was almost too fantastic to comprehend.

Alvy sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Cory onto his lap, hugging the naked little boy and nuzzling against his head. His hand went straight to Cory's little boner.

`I love you little buddy,' said Alvy, stroking the little boy's head, and ruffling his mop of blond hair.

I noticed how his voice softened when he talked to Cory like that. Alvy was sometimes a bit crass and insensitive. At school he was given to making flippant remarks and was apt to being generally whimsical and sarcastic. But seeing him like this with his little brother revealed an altogether different side to him, a softer, more caring side, that I guess I wouldn't have witnessed before.

`I love you too,' said Cory, sweetly, in his little high-pitched voice, `Can I kiss you now?'

Alvy nodded, smiling. Cory wriggled a little, twisting around so he was facing Alvy, still in his embrace, and kissed the older boy directly on the lips.

I was stunned.

Alvy returned the kiss, kissing his little brother quite hard on the mouth, and then again on his forehead, just for good measure. Cory smiled and blushed a little, squirming shyly and snuggling deeper into Alvy's embrace. Alvy was still squeezing Cory's little boner which was sticking out insistently from the little boy's crotch, and he was scrunching it roughly in his fist. Cory closed his eyes, and threw his head back in ecstasy against Alvy's chest.

`See how loving he is?' said Alvy, `He's perfect. Always does the right thing. Always says exactly what you want to hear.'

Alvy leaned forward, closer to me, and lowered his voice confidentially.

`And he always knows exactly what you want,' he added.

`Are you going to fuck me now?' said Cory loudly, fully aware that we were talking about him, as though to demonstrate exactly what Alvy had just postulated.

What amazed me was that Cory's words were not at all mechanical. There was real intonation in his speech and his expression was entirely natural. For all the world he was a real shota boy, a living, breathing little tyke who could not only suck and fuck but also show genuine affection. How I envied Alvy.

`Not just now little buddy,' said Alvy, `Laurent and I are talking.'

`Laurent, do you want to fuck me now?' Cory asked, turning to me appealingly.

I looked at Cory with a stunned expression, not quite able to believe that this little six year old sprite was serious. I looked straight into his big beautiful eyes, with their piercing hue of azure blue, and they were gleaming with the light of love. At that moment, seeing the freshness and vitality behind those eyes,  I had to believe he was real in every sense. There was genuine love in those eyes, reflecting the trusting innocence that only a boy of his age could know.

`I... I...' I stammered.

Cory's hopeful expression transfigured into a smile and he giggled cheekily.

`You DO want to, don't you?' he chuckled.

`Just imagine if you will,' said Mr Washington, taking his pipe out of his mouth, and gesturing wondrously into the air with it, `the perfect child -- the most finely crafted little boy imaginable. The most beautiful, the most intelligent, the most loving and well adjusted child you could ever hope for... that's what Cory is.'

Mr Washington was Alvy and Cory's dad. I was spending the weekend at their house, and we were sitting outside by the pool, facing each other across the ornate metal table. I liked Mr Washington. He was very distinguished, with fine, youthful features and a really thick head of hair that was just starting to go silver around his temples. I knew that he was a very intelligent man, and was very accomplished in his field. The fact that he smoked a pipe seemed to add to his mystique. We were all in our bathing gear, Mr Washington in a pair of loose knee-length swimming shorts, and us boys were all in Speedos. But I had had enough of swimming, so I put my t-shirt back on and sat by the pool to dry off for a bit. While Alvy and Cory continued messing around in the pool, I took the time to find out a little more about Cory -- this wonderful little boy that I had only just met; this beautiful, precocious, horny little shota boy who, according to Alvy, possessed untold magical delights and purportedly had the ability to satisfy even the most profane sexual peccadilloes. And Alvy would know. I was only too familiar with Alvy's particular peccadilloes.

Mr Washington leaned over and poured me some more iced tea, filling my glass from a big jug that had lots of ice cubes and slices of lemon floating in it. His pipe was still smoldering away between his lips. I quite liked the sweet smell of his tobacco. There were so few pipe smokers around these days. But as he sat there ruminating, one hand clasping the bowl of his pipe, there was something warm and reassuring and quite down to earth about Mr Washington. It was as though he was constantly in a state of contemplative repose, never rushed, always laid back and thoughtful.

`Of course, I've been involved in cybernetics now for over fifteen years,' Mr Washington went on, `Do you know what cybernetics is Laurent?'

`I think so,' I said, `Isn't it part human, part machine?'

He smiled, thinking my answer quaint if not erroneous.

`Sort of. Cybernetics covers a lot of different areas. My specialism is in cybernetic organisms, cyborgs to you.'

`Like robots, you mean?'

`Well robots are an entirely different species. Robots are artificial, and may not even look human. Those that look human are called androids. But Cory is not an android. Androids are synthetic. Cory is essentially organic and has human characteristics.'

`So, is he a real boy?' I asked.

`In some ways, yes,' Mr Washington explained, `He has human tissue and organs which were genetically re-engineered, but his brain is entirely artificial. He has been programmed with the most sophisticated artificial intelligence ever developed. This artificial intelligence has the ability to learn, to reason and to adapt, creating a consciousness of its own. That's what gives him his personality. He is an independent entity in his own right, with complete free will. The fusion of this artificial intelligence and the cybernetic body is the most advanced of its kind. This is a form of cybernetics we call Organic Re-Engineering. Cory's name is derived from Cybernetic Organically Re-Engineered Entity -- Coree, see?'

I sipped my drink, sucking at the bendy straw that Mr Washington had popped into it, balancing the big heavy glass in my hand, and I looked up thoughtfully. I was trying to follow what Mr Washington was saying, but it was all a little beyond me, fascinating though it was.

`He feels real emotions though, doesn't he?'

Mr Washington brightened, and grabbed his pipe from his mouth once more.

`Ah, now that is the beauty of him. This is where our expertise in artificial intelligence really excels. Cory is human in the sense that he can feel real emotion. He has the ability to feel everything that you and I can feel. He can think and feel and react just like a real child.'

`That's remarkable,' I said, astonished.

`Isn't it?' said Mr Washington, smiling assuredly, `His capacity to love is boundless. And his love is unconditional. Imagine that -- a boy who is brimming with love just for you. He will never reject you, never betray you, never abandon you. He will always love you no matter what.'

Then he leaned over towards me, to emphasize the importance of what he was about to say.

`The real test, my boy, is not whether an artificial entity like Cory can feel love for us, but whether we can feel love for an artificial entity.'

And he broke off, sitting back again, leaving that thought hanging in mid air expectantly.

`And can we?' I asked.

Mr Washington adjusted his gaze and looked past me, focusing on Alvy and Cory who were splashing about excitedly, still horsing around in the pool, their high pitched squeals echoing off the water, and then he looked into my eyes.

`I love him just as much as Alvy. Every day I look at Cory and my heart is filled with so much love for that little boy, as though he was a real child. It is a pleasure -- no, a privilege -- to look after him. But then, he is so lovable. He has the perfect temperament. Think about this: he is never moody, never angry, never jealous. He is not demanding or selfish and his capacity for loving and giving is greater than any human.'

As he said that, Mr Washington was looking so intensely into my eyes that I realized I could barely fathom the depths of what this great man knew, so brilliant was his intelligence, and so profound his wisdom. I never doubted him for one second.

`Can he also feel pleasure?' I asked.

Mr Washington nodded slowly.

`Like I said, he can feel everything that you and I can feel. He can feel pleasure, but he can also feel pain. The only difference is perhaps he feels it more keenly. His emotions are heightened and his pleasure receptors are very acute.'

The conversation trailed off. We sat back and relaxed, enjoying the sun, and Mr Washington went very quiet for a while, puffing away contentedly on his pipe, creating a stubborn fug of pipe smoke around him, and he continued gazing at his boys cavorting excitedly in the pool. Meanwhile, the cogs in my head were still turning, still questioning, still sifting this almost inconceivable principle which I was grappling with. And then I opened my mouth to ask another question.

`You want to know why,' Mr Washington interjected.

It was a statement of fact, as though he had read my mind and precisely anticipated my thought process, pinpointing my next question with eerie accuracy.

I shrugged.

`Sure. I mean, why go to all that trouble?'

He took his pipe out of his mouth and pointed the mouthpiece at me.

`Let me ask you a question Laurent: when you look at Cory, what do you see?'

I pursed my lips, unsure.

`I see perfection,' I said, as concisely as I could muster.

`Exactly,' said Mr Washington emphatically, stabbing the air with his pipe, `Just like Michelangelo's David. But I've gone one better. I haven't just portrayed perfection -- I've created it. I've created a living, breathing, thinking, feeling entity that will never be corrupted.'

The enormity of what he was saying was almost too deep to encompass. The sheer wonder of it gave me goose-bumps.

`So if you had the task of creating the perfect child,' Mr Washington went on, `What would he look like?'

`Like Cory, I guess,' I replied.

`Hmm, we have very similar tastes then,' he said, smiling conspiratorially, `I think you like shota boys, don't you Laurent?'

`Well... I...'

`It's OK,' Mr Washington continued, `We're all men of the world here.'

I was flattered that he should consider me a man. At any rate, for his purposes we were equals. But he didn't wait for a reply.

`I know what Alvy likes,' he went on, `and I know how much he loves Cory.'

I wasn't quite sure what he was driving at. I wondered at that moment if he was making a veiled reference to what Alvy and Cory did together, and whether he was even aware of that. For that matter, I wondered if perhaps he had any idea that Alvy and I also fucked around with each other from time to time.

`So why DID you create him? I asked, pursuing my original point.

`Isn't it obvious?' Mr Washington asked, raising his eyebrows.

Just at that moment, Cory came sauntering over to us excitedly, dripping wet, his little feet slapping against the tiles and his golden hair plastered to his head.

`Come on Laurent, swim with us. The water's lovely,' and he was impetuously grabbing at my hand, pulling me away.

Mr Washington leaned over towards him benevolently, and spoke in a low, kindly voice.

`What have I told you about running by the pool?'

Cory stopped, hesitating for a moment, and looked down, jabbing a finger between his lips.

`Sorry daddy, I forgot.'

`That's OK sweetie,' Mr Washington smiled, `I just don't want you to hurt yourself.'

I looked at Cory standing there in his cute little red Speedos. The wetness was creating a silky sheen on his tiny body, and the little droplets of pool water were glistening on his bronzed skin in the afternoon sun. He was so perfect, so alluring.

`Come on Laurent,' he piped up again, tugging my hand, `swim with us.'

I got up, compelled by the little ball of excitement that was pulling me away. As I did so, Mr Washington leaned over and spoke to me in hushed tones.

`Laurent,' he said, by way of warning, `you will be gentle with him won't you?'

I looked into his eyes as he said it and he winked, very slowly and very deliberately, with a wry smile, and I wondered if he meant what I thought he meant.

I allowed Cory to take me by the hand and lead me away to the edge of the pool. I admired how his wet Speedos clung tightly to him, accentuating the roundness of his pert little butt, and the sweet little bulge of his crotch. At the poolside, he left me standing there and took a running jump into the water, curling himself into a ball and crashing into the pool with a loud and enormous splash. He quickly resurfaced with a big grin, and with a practiced flick of his head, shook all the water out of his hair.

I prepared to get back into the water and stripped off my t-shirt in one swift action, throwing it aside on the grass. I could see Cory down in the water eyeing me up as I did so, his piercing azure eyes roving over my chest and abs, my crotch and thighs. My twelve year old body wasn't muscly or anything, and I didn't yet have any hair down below, but I was slim and, I suppose, quite athletic for my age. I did have quite defined pectorals and the beginnings of a little six pack. Cory was taking in every detail, closely admiring my physique. I could tell he was really into me.

I jumped into the pool feet first and as I rose back up, Cory pounced on me, playfully pulling me under. That pretty much set the tone for what followed. We spent a good long time playing in the pool, with Cory engaging in some really crazy antics. A lot of his behavior was boyish exuberance, but a lot of it also seemed to be highly sexualized and provocative. He liked to play very physical, tactile games in the water, with lots of bodily contact and rough and tumble. He was highly excitable, constantly laughing and giggling, his high pitched screams and shouts echoing about the pool. I noticed that Alvy was sitting it out, and climbed out of the pool claiming exhaustion. I understood entirely. He sat on the edge of the pool with his legs over the side, kicking into the water with his feet, watching us.

I played with Cory for a good long time, and he was quite inventive with his games. What he loved more than anything was climbing up onto me and using me as a diving platform. He made me stand in the middle of the pool, holding out my palms. Then he stepped up onto my shoulders, balancing himself precariously, and sprang upwards, diving back into the water, sometimes gracefully, sometimes clumsily. I would hold onto his heels and propel him upwards as he jumped, and no sooner was he in the water, he would come back for more. He also liked to entice me into chasing him, disappearing below the surface, darting around, twisting and turning and changing direction with all the agility of a little otter. I chased Cory around in the water, and he screamed excitedly as I threatened to come after him. I tried my best to swim after him, but he was too fast. He was quite an accomplished swimmer.

Before long, I found myself totally absorbed in this play. I was amazed by Cory's capacity to draw me into his little games, to totally concentrate my mind on keeping him amused. He had such an infectious personality, and was so utterly engaging, that he took me right out of myself and made me forget all the circumstances of my life. All that mattered, in all the time I was with him, was him and me in the pool, having fun. I swear I had never known anyone who could do that, who could make me forget everything else and focus my attention solely on living for the moment. For the first time I realized there was something really special about this little boy, something inexplicable. He had an indefinable quality, something extraordinary and profound which I had never before encountered.

From me chasing him, the game turned into him chasing me. Several times I found myself ambushed by him swimming up behind me, jumping on me by surprise, from time to time hugging me affectionately with excited squeals. That was a real turn-on. It was a really intense, physical dance we were engaged in, with overt sexual overtones. Several times I could see him adjust the front of his red Speedos, and I swear he must have had a little boner in there nearly all the time we were playing. God knows, I certainly did.

Finally exhausted and somewhat breathless, I begged off and pushed across to the side where Alvy was sat on the edge of the pool. I pulled myself up out of the water and settled myself next to him. My boner must have been quite visible. Alvy looked down into my crotch and I could see a crooked little smile on his face. I adjusted my cock which was trapped awkwardly in my tight Speedos.

`Christ Alvy!' I exclaimed.

I gave him an expression of incredulity, shaking my head in disbelief. Alvy laughed, with a look of amusement on his face. He leaned over, fixing me with quite a sympathetic grin.

`I know,' he said, `he does that to me all the time.'

`I don't know how you stand it,' I said, pressing my palm into my crotch, willing my boner to go down.

`I don't,' said Alvy, laconically, `I can fuck him any time I want, remember.'

`Christ Alvy,' I said again, this time with envy.

Alvy leaned closer, touching shoulders, and spoke directly into my ear.

`You won't believe how much cum I've fucked into him.'

I turned to face him, distinctly unamused.

`I think I probably would,' I said, drily.

`He can really take it, you know,' Alvy went on, with a tone that indicated he was now sharing privileged information, `He's a horny little bastard. Whenever I need him, he's there, always ready, always willing, always in the mood. He never turns you down and does whatever you want. He loves to be fucked real hard. I swear he wears me out sometimes.'

My boner was harder than ever.

`His orgasms are amazing,' Alvy went on, `He really feels them. My dad says his orgasms are three or four times more powerful than normal, and they last a lot longer. The first time I saw Cory cum, it went on for so long it was like he was having a seizure. Then he passed out. I thought I'd killed him. He can really perform. He can keep wood for hours, and he can cum as many times as he likes.'

I was incredulous, and stared at Alvy, stupefied.

`Does he...?' I started to ask, `I mean can he actually...?'

`Oh yeah,' Alvy asserted, `he can spunk like a fuckin' porn star.'

It was a mind-blowing concept.

Alvy and I sat there together quietly for a few moments, just watching Cory in the pool. He was jumping around by himself, pushing off the sides and diving down to the bottom, and seeing how many different ways he could jump into the water, doing somersaults in every conceivable orientation, or just flopping into the water and causing as much noise and fallout as possible. He was quite entertaining, and seemingly inexhaustible.

I could only sit there in awe, coveting that gorgeous little boy in a way I had never envied anything in my entire life. But it wasn't just because he was so attractive. Sure, he was sexy and precocious, but it wasn't just the blind motivation that all of us boys were driven by -- that irrepressible, primal desire of which we were all victims -- the desire to stick our little dicks into each other as hard as possible and have a really powerful cum, to feel our spunk pumping deep into a hot, tight little body. It was more than that. Beyond the sheer physical yearning I felt, was a nagging, almost unattainable feeling of something I couldn't control. It was the way I was so intensely drawn to Cory. The way I was so enamored by him. And on realizing that, I reflected on what Mr Washington had said about whether we were capable of feeling love towards an artificial entity. But to me, Cory was not artificial. He was as real as anybody I knew -- more real than many of them. He had a solid and tangible persona, a distinct and clearly defined character that was unique and unrepeatable. I was so consumed by his presence, so completely under his spell, that what I felt for that little boy could only be described as a stab of real love.

I was disappointed when Mr Washington called us back inside. Disappointed because I had enjoyed sitting there on the side of the pool just watching Cory, and it had been a glorious afternoon during which I was able to play with him and interact with him in such an intimate way. Simply being in his presence gave me some kind of natural high that left me feeling like I wanted more. And that feeling stayed with me even as the sunshine started to fade and we had to go back inside.

Mr Washington suggested we all go and shower before dinner to wash off the pool water. He asked Alvy to come down and help him to prepare dinner when we were done. Alvy's cavernous bedroom had an ensuite bathroom. All three of us crashed into his room, having raced each other up the stairs, and quickly stripped off our chlorine-soaked Speedos, leaving wet footprints all over the carpet. Alvy was already in and out of the shower before Cory and I were even undressed. He passed us on the way out, having given himself a cursory rinse, and was busy drying off his hair, in a hurry to go down and help his dad with dinner. That left me alone with Cory, which was not an unwelcome situation, but I suspected that both Alvy and Mr Washington must have been aware of it.

Luckily Alvy's bathroom had a walk-in shower, which could easily have accommodated three of us. Cory was first in, and turned on the shower heads to full blast. There was already steam billowing out by the time I got there. My dick was rock hard. It had been at full mast for most of the time I was in the pool. Of course Cory could see my boner as I stepped into the shower. The fact that his eyes seemed to widen at the sight of it merely excited me even more. Suddenly, I found myself with this opportunity and I knew Cory was compliant and amenable. My whole body pulsed with anticipation, and it seemed to culminate in the tangible stiffness of my dick, which had by now been hard for so long that it was starting to hurt.

Standing under the powerful jets of the shower, enveloped in this cloud of steam, I could feel my body warming up from the heat of the water. It is not until you feel warm water on your skin that you realize how cold the pool water is. Cory and I both warmed up and then I could see Cory reaching for something from the little shelf on the shower wall. He turned and handed me the shampoo bottle.

`Will you wash my hair for me?' he asked, proffering the shampoo in his little outstretched hand, `Daddy says I mustn't do it because I get it in my eyes.'

It made good sense.

`OK, I said,' squeezing a liberal amount of the thick, glossy liquid onto my palm.

Putting the shampoo bottle down, I massaged the big glob of liquid into Cory's pretty little head, working up a stiff lather. He smiled, obviously enjoying the attention. He instinctively tilted his head back, as he was no doubt used to. I could see him looking up at me as I was doing it, the shower jet splashing a little on his unblemished face. I smiled down at him, trying to focus on massaging the shampoo into his scalp. His little head was jerking with my movements, but he stood firm until I was finished. Then I pulled him under the water jet to rinse off and he closed his eyes tightly until the white foam was all gone.

`Thanks,' he said, with a well meaning inflection.

`You're welcome,' I said.

Such a polite, well mannered little boy.

I then got on with showering myself, and we quite happily washed side by side, quickly finishing up and finally rotating once more under the water for a final rinse. Afterwards, Cory stepped out onto the tiled floor as I turned off the water and suddenly it was very quiet. The powerful jets of the shower were silenced and we found ourselves standing there dripping wet, slowly cooling in the stagnant, steamy atmosphere of the bathroom. Feeling a little responsible for Cory, I took one of the oversized bath towels from the rack and wrapped it around him. He wore it like a cape and clumsily tried to dry himself. The big towel was almost too unwieldy for his little hands, so I knelt down and helped him. Then I took another towel and dried myself off.

When we were both dry, Cory stood there with the towel draped over his shoulders, and his lovely golden hair all sticking up in a shock of uneven spikes. I smiled at him. He smiled back. I still had a hard-on, even as I toweled my hair, and Cory studied it with interest. He cocked his head uncertainly, as though weighing something up in his mind.

`Your dickie's really big,' he said, in such a matter of fact way that it almost shocked me.

I didn't say anything, just smiled, raising my eyebrows and feeling flattered.

`Do you want to put it in me?' he asked, solicitously, `You can if you want to.'

He didn't give me a chance to answer. In fact, I don't think it required an answer. He already knew.

`Cuddle me,' he demanded, throwing his little arms out towards me in supplication, wanting me to pick him up, and his towel dropped to the floor.

It was a request that no man could deny. His simple, plaintive appeal melted my heart. I put my towel down and leaned over and picked him up. His tiny frame was imperceptibly light. I hugged his little naked body against me, and he sort of fell onto me, clasping his arms around my neck and wrapping his slender little thighs around my waist. He was still warm from the shower, and his baby soft skin was like silk against my chest. We stood there in the bathroom, with him clinging to me, still a little wet, and he looked directly into my eyes. He hesitated a moment, and I didn't know what he was going to do.

`Thank you for playing with me today,' he said, his little hands resting on my shoulders, `It was fun.'

`It was my pleasure,' I said, `I enjoyed it too.'

`Do you want to kiss me?' he asked sweetly.

It was spoken with such innocence and such sincerity. I looked closely at this beautiful little specimen, staring deep into those mysterious azure eyes of his, and I closed in on those luscious little rosebud lips. Our lips locked together for a few prolonged moments, and I tasted his hot little mouth. At the same time I could feel his little dick, as hard as wood, digging into my tight stomach. This sweet little boy was so beautiful, so compliant, so utterly fuckable.

I carried him out of the bathroom. He held onto me, leaning over my shoulder. I crossed the room with him, and laid him down on the bed gently. He relaxed into the comforter, throwing out his arms and legs in a star shape, a position of total submission. His little boner was still sticking up, as stiff as a flagpole.

I stood at the foot of the bed and surveyed his naked little body, taking the time to really appreciate this exquisite creature laid out before me, and I mumbled something almost unconsciously, under my breath.

`Oh god you're so beautiful Cory,' I whispered to myself.

He smiled and I realized he had heard me.

`You've been waiting for this, haven't you?' he said, perceptively.

`From the very first moment I saw you,' I confessed.

I settled myself on the bed next to him, and propped myself up on one elbow, so that I could look down at him. I reached out and stroked his little body, tracing my fingertips all the way down his silken torso, from his breastbone down to his abs, feeling the tight little muscles of his stomach, sheathed in young skin. I stopped at his little innie belly button, and splayed my fingers out, pressing gently into the yielding flesh of his concave tummy and feeling its burning heat through my palm. His little dick was still hard, sticking straight up, and it flexed a few times in response to my touch.

I couldn't resist kissing his little body. I leaned over and kissed his lips, then all the way down his chest, feeling his warmth with my lips. He smelled of mildly scented soap, all clean and fresh from the shower. I stopped to nibble on his pink little nipples and he squirmed, grabbing my head as I did that. I could feel his hot little hands on my cheeks and he let out a faint involuntary whimper.

I carried on, kissing his tummy, then traced a trail with the tip of my tongue all the way down to his crotch, to where his tummy fell away between his bony hips. I took his hard little dick into my mouth and he let out a tiny squeal. I closed my lips around his throbbing little organ, creating a seal, and sucked hard. He stiffened from the sheer pleasure of it. I traced the tip of my tongue around the rim, licking under the skin, and he was letting out quiet little shrieks as I did so, almost keening with the sensations I was giving him.

I stopped and looked up at him, my face down by his crotch. His head was tilted over to one side, his cheek against his shoulder, and his eyes were watching me eagerly and intently, sparkling with wonder and anticipation.

`That was nice,' he said, with a contented smile.

He was so full of encouragement. He certainly believed in communicating the things he liked. Why couldn't all boys be like that?

`No one's ever done that to me before,' he said.

`Doesn't Alvy play with you like that?' I asked.

`No,' said Cory, `He just likes to stick it straight in.'

That sounded just like Alvy.

`Shame,' I said, `He doesn't know what he's missing.'

He smiled.

`Please do it some more?' he asked, in a meek, almost humble tone.

`OK,' I said, patting his thigh, `turn over for me.'

He immediately complied, and lifted himself up, turning over and settling himself back down on his stomach. I could see him tremble slightly as he brought his weight down, pressing his hard little dick into the mattress.

I positioned myself above him, so that I was on all fours on the bed, and he was laying beneath me, yielding and submissive. His little body was totally relaxed, and I admired his physique as he lay there. His arms were by his sides, palms facing upward. I could see his head turned to one side, and observed the graceful down-up sweep of his long, seductive eyelashes, just visible above the line of his cheek. I could see his little shoulder blades jutting out at the top of his bronzed back, and the clear defining line of his spine where the ridge tapered down to his pelvis, dipping ever so slightly at his slim waist just before the rising swell of his beautiful round little ass. Even the backs of his legs were beautiful, as bronzed and flawless as the rest of him, and his little boy feet were cutely turned inwards as he lay there.

My dick was so hard it was pulsing perceptibly with every beat of my heart, which was by now racing with anticipation of the sweet pleasure that I knew was in the offing. He was so exquisite that I knew if I had touched myself at this moment I could easily have blown my load all over him in the most powerful and uncompromising way. But this was an opportunity that did not come every day, and I was resolved to savor it to the full.

I parted his legs and scooted between them, grabbing the smooth little globes of his ass which felt so small in my hands. His pelvis seemed so narrow it was almost inconceivable that he could accommodate Alvy's big dick in there. Parting his ass cheeks, I wet my tongue and moved in to start licking his little ass crack. He let out a little high pitched squeal of surprise and looked back to see what I was doing.

`Oh Laurent, that's so good!'

I smiled to myself, fondly recalling the first time someone had ever done that to me. He responded by rotating his little ass upwards, and spreading his legs to give me better access. His tight little balls were clearly visible. I felt for his little pucker, and I located it, shiny and pink between his legs. I delved in and darted my tongue into the tight little ring. Being an experienced boy, he knew how to relax his sphincter, and let me lick deep into his little hole. He squirmed with the pleasure of it, moaning in his little high pitched voice and burying his face deep into the comforter. He brought his arms up and was clutching handfuls of the bedclothes as he lay there, overcome with the sweet ecstasy I was subjecting him to. It was so erotic watching his tanned little body writhing like that on the bed.

He raised his head and looked back at me one more time.

`Put it in me Laurent. Please put it in me.'

There was a look in his eyes that belied his age and I detected a note of urgency in his voice -- the urgency to have his little body mercilessly fucked. My rimming had done the trick. He was so sexed up he was almost panting with anticipation, the little syncopated sighs of his breathing making his whole body pulse with need.

I turned him over again, so that he was facing up at me. I wanted to be sure to see his pretty face as I fucked him. I straddled his little body, lifting his legs and pushing his knees right back against his shoulders, exposing his little hole. He was incredibly supple and flexible. I closed in and put my rock hard cock at the entrance to his little pucker, which was thoroughly lubricated with my spit. I thrust hard into him. He squealed from the pain, which sent a curious shiver of delight all through me. After all, this was something he must have done countless times with Alvy, and Alvy's cock was much bigger than mine. He was remarkably compliant. His eyes were screwed tightly shut. He stiffened a little, holding his breath as I stabbed into him, but my cock slid in easily. It was clear that he was obviously well practiced and was able to adjust his sphincter to accommodate the invasion. My cock was able to glide into him like a hot knife into butter. When I was completely inside him, I stopped and held it there for a moment, his little body impaled on me, his little hole obscenely stretched around my dick, and I savored the hot tightness that enveloped it. Then his little body relaxed as he adjusted to my cock. He slowly opened his eyes and smiled. He was loving it!

`Fuck me Laurent. Go on, fuck me,' he whispered, looking directly at me.

I looked down at his slight frame, taking in the sight of this almost delicate looking little boy beneath me, and I whispered back.

`You're so beautiful, Cory.'

I gave him a few slow thrusts and gradually worked into a good fucking rhythm. All the time he was reading my expression, with a look of wonder and fascination on his face. At the same time, he played with his little boner, grabbing it and pulling on it erratically as we fucked. He had almost legendary instincts, knowing exactly when to flex the muscles in his little chute, and how to position himself to maximise our pleasure, sometimes mine, sometimes his own. He would tighten his sphincter on the upstroke, clamping on my dick when it was fully inside him almost as though trying to keep it in him. He was shockingly knowledgeable and practised and his technique was superb. He was with me throughout -- compliant, enthusiastic, and sometimes in control. I swear I had never experienced that in adults, yet alone in someone so young.

As we fucked, I leaned in and kissed him. That was quite hard because he was so small, but he immediately responded, drawing my head towards him as we fucked, and flicking his hot little tongue around.

`Yeh, fuck me!' he panted excitedly, `Fuck me real hard Laurent!'

Such a sweet but dirty little mouth. He was almost taunting me, daring me to let loose on him.

I increased my pace, banging into him with as much force as I could muster, holding his little ass up off the bed so I could get a better angle. I was driving my dick so hard into him, and forcing his legs so far back that I thought I was going to snap his little spine. But he took it, allowing himself to be thoroughly pummelled into the mattress without protest. When he sensed my orgasm approaching, he piped up again.

`Go on, shoot it in me Laurent!'

His expressiveness was shockingly explicit, yet all the more thrilling. Hearing this tiny little boy uttering such sentiments in his little high-pitched voice was strangely edifying. Then I remembered what Alvy had said about Cory always saying the right thing. Most likely he had got it all from Alvy. But Alvy was quite right -- so far Cory had done everything exactly as I would have wanted. It had the desired effect: his vocalisations just made me want to fuck him even harder.

I had been primed with excitement all afternoon, carrying this awkward, almost painful, energy-sapping boner around with me for most of the day, having had it almost continuously from the time that Cory first rubbed his Speedo clad little crotch against me in the pool. Only now was I starting to feel satisfaction, feasting with my eyes on this beautiful, precocious, sexy little boy, whilst at the same time feeding my need to experience him physically. In effect, I had been building up to this moment for a long time. I was disappointed that it didn't last longer but I needed to cum inside him. I needed to feel my spunk being injected deep into his tight little chute, and I pursued that ultimate pleasure until that primal urge was fulfilled. It didn't take long. Eventually I felt the first itch of pleasure rising within me, and it was so insistent that I knew it was going to be a big one, inflaming my excitement even further. My orgasm ripped through me like a hurricane, causing me to tighten up in the most pleasurable way, and on the paradise stroke I almost froze, making one last enormous stab into Cory's little hole, as deep and hard as I could, and finally succumbed to the longed-for waves of pleasure that made my whole body shudder. I almost screamed from the intensity, managing only a loud and guttural `Ugh!' as my orgasm hit. It rose from my crotch, making my cock feel like it had burst inside the tight velvet glove of his hole, rippling through my hole body, and sent my spunk shooting deep into his pelvis. My cock pulsed violently several times, and I could even feel my hot cum splashing back onto my cock as I stabbed insistently into the confines of his little boy hole. It was a delicious orgasm. At last I had fucked my spunk into his little body, and he took it. This tiny little boy took it all.

When it had subsided and the urgency had passed, I almost collapsed onto him. Gasping with breathlessness and relief, I held out my arms either side to avoid falling onto him, and my head hung down in exhaustion. I was panting, enjoying the afterglow of the fantastic cum that this little boy had afforded me. He was looking up, trapped beneath me, my cock still hard and still buried deep in his little ass. I gathered myself up and leaned back, sitting on my ankles. He was still connected to me, with his slender thighs hugging my waist. He reached up and put his little hands on my hips.

`Stay in me,' he pleaded, and as he said it I could feel him flexing his sphincter, tightening it around my dick, as though to reinforce his plaintive request.

I smiled down at him, disarmed by his presence of mind and the simple, straightforward manner in which he expressed himself.

I realized I was so into this little boy, so utterly consumed by him, and still so turned on, I was unable to refuse his request. My cock was still hard, even after my cum, undoubtedly anticipating the prospect of stimulating him to a climax. The very thought of seeing this little boy in the throes of orgasm was enough to make my cock stiffen further, and I could feel it growing back to full hardness even while it was still inside him.

It was soon clear that he had been pretty close to orgasm himself. When I got back up on my knees and hunched over him, driving my dick back into him with renewed vigour, he held onto his crotch with both hands, squeezing his hairless little dick and balls roughly in his tiny fists. His hole was sloppy and wet and my spunk squelched out around the sides of my dick as I drove it back into him. As I resumed my energetic thrusting, his eyes widened. Something was happening. I knew that I was hitting his little gland when his expression changed. A few more powerful thrusts and he suddenly looked almost alarmed, urgently calling out.

`Oh Laurent, you're going to fuck my spunk out!'

This I wanted to see. I carried on pistoning into him, but slowed down, using more accuracy than force. I was thrusting up rather than in, jerking his little body upwards, making sure that I hit his gland every time. I looked down at him as I fucked into him, and I could clearly see the transformation in his face. His orgasm built up very slowly, announcing its arrival rather like an approaching train. I knew it was going to be a big one because he cried out a single plaintive little moan, almost a precursor to the imminent ecstasy that he was anticipating, heralding the point of no return. His pretty features contorted into a look of wonder and surprise. Then he screwed up his eyes and his jaw dropped open and a little strangled scream of pleasure emanated. There was an expectant pause as he suffered that sweet agonising delay between the moment when you know your orgasm is imminent and when it actually arrives, and finally that train arrived and slammed into him at full pelt. His whole body tightened and convulsed uncontrollably, going into a series of violent shudders. I could feel his crotch clamping around my dick in his little hole with every wave of his cum, the spasms making his little dick flex wildly. It pulsed several times before anything came out, and then it urgently spat out several thin streaks of little boy spunk, rapidly ejecting his cum in powerful squirts up as far as his hair and face and neck. It was like machine gun fire. As I continued to pump into him, so more of his spunk was forced out with every thrust of my dick as it struck his gland. It was a voluminous amount. It was almost inconceivable that this little boy was even capable of producing the stuff, yet alone ejaculating so much in one go. He panted loudly in synchronisation with the waves of his cum. His orgasm went on for a really long time. He was consumed by this delicious pleasure for what seemed like ages. It seemed to be crashing through him in waves, and his whole body was rocking in the most violent of seizures. It was a little scary. But then I remembered what Alvy had told me about the first time he saw Cory cum, and how he thought he had killed him. I immediately understood why. That must have been the most incredible orgasm.

Cory was completely incapacitated for a good few minutes. When it was over, and the spasms petered out and finally ceased altogether, he appeared spent and exhausted. His eyes rolled back and he lay there on the bed totally still, limp and lifeless, with his little boy cum spattered over his face. I stopped thrusting and pulled my battered, slime covered dick out of him. It was starting to get sore. Then I waited to see what would happen. Slowly, he came back to life.

When Cory opened his eyes, he saw me, and focused on me with a smile. That let me know that he was OK. He was sated and happy. He looked down at his body and he seemed pleased. He was aware of the spunk on his face and saw that there was spunk all over his little body. His own little boy spunk, lashed across his bronzed young skin in thin, watery streaks. Where it peppered his young body, it ran in little rivulets down him, over his smooth chest and nipples, and over his flat tummy and his hairless little cock and balls. Almost instinctively, he ran his hands over his chest and stomach, spreading his warm cum and creating greasy smears on his bronzed skin. He scooped up what he could, licking it off his palms. His hot little tongue was licking all around his mouth, where the first and heaviest blast had hit, and he was loving it, savouring every lick, every mouthful. Still laying back on the bed, with me sitting between his legs, he reached up and pulled me to him. I bent down towards him and he lifted his head off the bed to meet my lips with his. I was rewarded with a hot mouthful of his own cum, which he spat vehemently into my mouth as we kissed. It was shockingly erotic. This little boy just about blew my mind.

There was silence for a while, during which we both enjoyed the afterglow of what we had just done. It was a perfect few moments. I was still sitting on my ankles between his splayed legs, and he had his knees drawn up, relaxing back on the bed, totally spent. Cory looked at me along the line of his nose.

`Hold me,' he said.

This time it was said with confidence, in the certain knowledge that he didn't need to hold his arms out to me. I smiled down at him, disarmed by his innate ability to always say and do exactly what was right -- exactly what felt appropriate at that moment. So I scooted around and got behind him, propping him up on the bed, and cradled him between my legs. I wrapped my arms around his little tummy and he leaned back against my chest. His golden hair was still mussed up from his shower, and now wet all over again with little boy sweat. He was quiet, his breathing slowing almost to a sigh as we both came down from our exertions of a few moments ago.

As I sat there, with this lovely little boy in my arms, I felt a special closeness to him. I was so enamored with this little boy, whom I had only just met, and he was making such an impact on me that I was beginning to feel a unique bond was developing. I was so taken by him that I wanted to hold him close and cuddle him forever. It was a perfect moment, made all the more perfect by what happened next. He tilted his head back and looked up at me as he laid in my arms. I looked back down at him, peering deeply into his mysterious azure blue eyes with those long, seductive eyelashes, and he spoke very quietly.

`I love you Laurent,' he said, almost in a whisper, `I wish you could stay with us forever.'

Then I remembered what Mr Washington had said about Cory's boundless capacity to love. He was an emotional, intuitive little boy, who was guided by his emotions more than anybody I had ever met, and wasn't afraid to express them. At any given time he was honest, never hiding, never avoiding, always open and candid about what he felt. That was so refreshing. I had never met anybody quite like Cory.

We sat there for a good long time, lost in the moment, and I savored the presence of this very special little boy, enjoying the warmth that radiated from his body, protectively ensconced in my embrace. And we sat there, wrapped up in each other like that for ages, not really feeling the need to say anything, until the reverie was broken by the voice of Mr Washington calling us down for dinner.

The End

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