I’m in the upper part of my teens now, but this is not a story about the most recent years. Instead, it’s about my earlier years. I would not consider myself a man now, and at that point in time I was far – very far, indeed – from it. If the thought of sex and sexual activities with (more or less) consenting younger boys upsets you, then maybe you should read no further. To those bold and delightfully depraved enough to continue, this is me telling you about my adolescent years.
I was a pale, little geek. Not short but nor was I tall for my age. Although, I suppose my thin frame made me look comparatively tall, even though I wasn’t. I certainly wasn’t taller than most of my peers. For as long as I could remember, me and Mom had been living with my grandmother. Grandpa had passed away, and my dad might as well have been deceased for all I ever saw of him. He had done a few trips to jail (related to drugs and robbery) and had abandoned me and Mom when he got out the last time. Mom called him a useless deadbeat, among other things, and that was that.
My mother, a slender blonde who was about to turn thirty-three, was working the front desk of a hotel. She was narrow across both hips and chest, and I guess it’s fair to say that I got my own unimpressive physique for a boy more from her genetics than from my father. We had never had a lot of money, and truth be told it didn’t help that my thieving father had leeched money from my gullible mother and left her in debt. Anyways, with him out of our lives, we were to get our own place once Mom had saved up a little bit of capital, but up until that time we would continue staying with Grandma.
It wasn’t too bad there, but neither was it great. My room was small, and the furniture was old. Even worse, my computer was ancient. I had coerced Mom into paying for broadband, so I could game with the few friends I had, but I could only play the simplest of games without lag. Mostly, I stuck to Minecraft unless I wanted to have a mental breakdown. I rarely complained to Mom though, she truly did her best and I knew that. She didn’t even have a room of her own, and instead slept on the living room sofa – which made it awkward the weeks she worked the night shift at the hotel reception. At those times, she slept on my bed when me and Grandma got up and I was getting ready for school.
Things changed later on though. Mom met a new boyfriend – an older man. A real gentleman, she called him. After they had been dating for some time, we moved in with him. Our standards of living went up what seemed like tenfold. Richard’s – that was his name by the way, and he was 58 years of age – house was both big and luxurious. It had marble counters in the kitchen and the bathrooms – of which there were several – and it had a steam shower. Out back, there was an outdoor pool and a jacuzzi. The fairly large garden was surrounded by high hedges, and the front lawn and driveway was protected, so to speak, by a wall (taller than me) which had a sturdy-looking gate in the center.
What really impressed me though, was how I got not only my own bedroom with nice, new furniture and a big, comfortable bed but also a whole separate game room for my toys and gaming computer. The computer, which Richard bought for me, was a brand new one with which I could easily play any game I wanted on the highest settings. Also, I had gotten a couple of high-end monitors hooked up to the computer. Furthermore, as if that wasn’t enough already (!), he soon after gave me both the newly released Xbox One AND the PS4, as an early birthday present - my birthday being in the second week of December. While other kids at school had the debate about which of them to wish for at Christmas, I suddenly had ‘em both! I could have connected the video game consoles to the PC monitors, but instead I got a big LED TV mounted on the wall – as a Christmas present. I could have happily spent that rest of my life in that room!
Evidently there had been a lot of money to be made from fixing peoples’ teeth. That’s what he had been doing before he retired a few years back; being a dentist. When I asked him about it one time, with incredulity, he laughed and confirmed that it was indeed so – he had been running his own father’s old clinic, which he had now sold upon retiring.
Richard used to get up in the mornings to drive me to school, and pick me up after it. With the move to his house, we lived further away from my old school. There had been some talk about changing schools, but I had pleaded for that not to happen and had thankfully been listened to. You see, I did not have an easy time making new friends – other boys were just as, or even more so, prone to picking on me as being friends with me. I did not want to be the skinny newcomer who also happened to be a quiet and introverted nerd, sucked at sports, and probably would be considered a teacher’s pet because I sat calmly in class, didn’t make a ruckus and did my homework when I got home – before I could play video games, as Grandma always insisted.
As it were, I at least had a couple of reasonably close companions with which I could hang out with at school. I suppose the harsh truth was that we were more or less equally unpopular kids who found solace in banding together. It always struck me as unfair that when the more popular crowd talked about games, then it was normal, but when we did it, we were such losers.
After my new stepdad had picked me up from school, I usually spent most of my time playing video games, while he would spend his days reading books, gardening and working out in his home gym in the garage. He had suggested that he had enough money for Mom to quit work, and possibly go to a community college and study something she liked – if she wanted to. He would also suggest, while getting a little frisky, that she could simply stay at home with him as his “gorgeous gold digger”. Even though Mom used to tell him to stop it, reiterating it several times in fact, when he did stuff like that, she seemed to like it nonetheless because she almost always laughed and smiled meanwhile. However, in the end Mom insisted that she’d do her bid to contribute to the household’s income and not rely entirely on him. Richard said that he liked that about her; that she wasn’t lazy.
One Friday evening in the beginning of 2014, me and Richard were watching a movie in the living room - Mom having gone to work the night shift at the hotel. In the middle of the film, he said “Hey sport, now that you’ve been living here for a while, I trust that you’ve settled in nicely?”. Truth be told, I loved living at his place, and said as much.
He laughed. “That’s good to hear! However, it’s kind of something along those lines I need to talk to you about...”. As he was talking, his mirth had diminished, and he seemed more thoughtful. I did not like where this was going. Richard continued by saying that he loved my mom, and that they got along great – and also that I was great kid to have around in the house. However, he didn’t know whether my mom was enough for him, no matter how strong his feelings were for her.
I immediately pictured them breaking up, and myself ending up back at Grandma’s, losing my two awesome bedrooms and all my stuff in them. No, no, no (!) - I thought. This couldn’t be happening! He had said something more, but I hadn’t been listening, instead panicking about the possible reversal of fortune for myself. However, now I got to promise to keep listening – since we were friends – and that I couldn’t tell Mommy what he was about to tell me. I did so, and nodded to convey the earnestness of my reply.
Richard, now with a strong arm around me where we sat on the sofa, went on to explain how every man has this “pressure” inside of him that he needs to release. It just so happened that he was a man with an exceptional amount of pressure that needed to find an outlet – and that outlet was the sex. Now, he loved Mommy and they apparently had absolutely fine sex – but he was worried that she couldn’t keep up with his needs for release. Ultimately, if nothing changed, he feared that their relationship would have to come to an early end, and by extension that we would have to move out of his house. However, he hoped that that wouldn’t be the case. I nodded emphatically as if willing it so would make everything good and alright.
That’s where I came into the picture, he said. He explained that if I were able to help him relieve his stress, that had been built up from many years of working long hours, and thereby take some of the responsibility away from Mommy, we could all still be a family and live happily together. That last bit resonated greatly with me; we would get to keep living in his big house, and I would get to keep all my new, nice things.
It would be our secret then, he said. The biggest of secrets, and if I were ever to say anything about what we had talked about right then and there or anything of the secret stuff that we might do, he’d feel very betrayed and would deny it. Also, since I (in that case) would have betrayed his trust in the most egregious way, we couldn’t be a family any more…
He asked if we should give it a whirl, if I was game to try some of the Mommy-Daddy stuff that could make him feel good? I wasn’t quite certain what it was that he expected of me. I knew what the sex was – I had watched a few pornos online, and touched my hard, little prick meanwhile. But, for example, I had no boobs like Mom. I guess her tits wasn’t all that big, but at least she had a pair. My chest was completely flat.
As if understanding my confusion, he asked “You know what, erm, adults do when they get naked together, right?”.
“Mmh,” I said. I wasn’t an idiot. “It’s when... when people do IT. A guy puts… his thing inside a girl, and she gets pregnant”.
“That’s the gist of it, yeah,” he replied while nodding. “Hey, if I go ahead and show you something right now, something reeeally secret, you’re not gonna tell Mommy, right?” he asked.
“No,” I promised and shook my head.
At that point, he undid his pants, scooched down his underwear and pulled out his thing. It was large, and it was expanding in size right before my eyes. It looked almost angry, which conflicted with how pleased he seemed when he looked at me and saw how my gaze ping-ponged from his smiling face to his hard manhood.
“Well, here’s mah thang – with which I sex up your mommy whenever she’s up for it”, he explained while grabbing around the shaft of it with one hand and moving it around. “The lovemaking is.. nice. Aaand after a while, all the pent-up pressure in me is released – which feels super awesome and relaxing”.
I said nothing. I didn’t know what to say, or if I needed to say anything. I was scared and mesmerized at the same time. Nervous, yet excited.
“When you’re younger, you can more easily relieve the pressure yourself,” he continued, and started to jack himself off – I knew that’s what he was doing when he moved his hand up and down on it. “However, as you get older, that becomes less effective and you need a wife, girlfriend or simply a good friend to help you out. You see, your mom is good at helping me out, but I need more help than she realizes, and that’s where I thought you might pitch in. By taking some of the workload away from your mommy, not that she can really keep up with my needs as it is – which is why we’re having this conversation in the first place - I’m sure we’ll all manage to stay happy together”.
I nodded. As he had laid it out and explained it, it seemed sort of sensical to me.
“Go ahead, touch it,” he said.
I had never really stopped looking at it. Now I did as I had been invited to do; I touched it with my small fingers, tentatively. Although I was a little scared of how enraged it looked, and of the sheer size, which dwarfed my own (that was safely hidden away inside my pants), I was still inexplicably drawn to it – like it had a gravity that was pulling my little hand towards it.
“That’s it, go on. Grab onto it,” he urged.
Again, I did as suggested. I placed my hand on the middle of his shaft. About an equal distance from the pink, shiny tip and the base at which he had what looked like a short-trimmed beard around the penis. It was smooth and warm in my hand, which couldn’t reach entirely around it. It seemed to pulse, as if it had a life of its own.
“Aw yeah, that’s the stuff”, he said while leaning his head back and exhaling loudly.
“I think.. I can feel the pressure,” I said.
“Bet you can! You’re a natural. Yeah, you’re your mother’s son alright, just the right touch”. Leaned back and breathing deeply, he added in a slowly spoken sentence “Are you sure you haven’t done this before - helped some older geezer with his pressure, I mean? It’s OK, you can tell me”.
I hadn’t, of course, and said as much – though I had to admit that so much praise for doing something so easy felt nice.
“Well, you’re.. R-E-A-L-L-Y talented. That’s it, just like that!” he uttered, groaning as if he was in pain. Listening more to the way he said it than the words he spoke, I stopped clasping onto his upwards-pointing throbbing dick. “Did I do it wrong?”, I asked at the same time.
“No, no.. It’s... it can feel so good when a man gets help with his thing, that.. urm, he cannot help but moan out his abundance of good spirits. You understand?”.
“Ok,” I replied - a little confused about how something that was supposed to feel good could make someone sound as if they were hurting.
Richard was looking around, behind the sofa, at the windows and into the darkness of his garden out back, as if he had seen something. “I think this a good time to emphasize how BIG of a secret this is – what I’ve told you and what we just did. It is highly forbidden for me to show you mah thang and, you know, to allow you to help me and try to release the pressure inside of it,” he explained. “It’s because you’re considered too young to help your mommy with her duties, with such adult relationship-stuff. If she finds out, she would be very upset that you and I did these things. She thinks she can handle it alone, you know, but she just can’t, truth be told, and that’s not because of her, it’s simply because I have so much... stored pressure in me”.
While saying all of that, Richard had put his penis back inside his underwear again, and with his trousers pulled up - though they remained unbuttoned – he had left the couch and was closing the shades on the windows of the living room. Then, he leaned on the back of the sofa, in which I still sat - now turned around and looking back and up at him. “You’re ready to help me out for real, aren’t you?” he wondered.
“Sure,” I answered. After all he had given to me and mom, it seemed no more than right that I tried to make some of it up to him, the best I could anyways. I didn’t want him to have to look for another woman, who would better manage to help him with his inside pressure. I was certain that Mom did the best she could, and I wasn’t about to hurt her feelings by speaking out of turn about how it just wasn’t enough for her boyfriend. I imagined myself moving out and some other kid moving into my bedroom and also getting my game room. I bet tons of other kids would line up to help their stepdad by touching his stiffy (which had its own strange allure to it), if it meant they could get all the toys, the computer setup, and the video game consoles that I had.
He led me out into the hallway, saying “First, we make sure that the door is locked as usual”, which it was. It had a floor lock, which could be bolted down – and he did so. At the same time as I thought that Mom wouldn’t be able to get in if she came home, Richard added “So Mommy doesn’t surprise us if she ends her shift early for some reason”. Then we stopped and looked at the hallway monitor, which showed the feeds from the half dozen security cameras outside of the house. They could see in the dark, and showed nothing or no one around the house or in the driveway behind the gate. After that, we went to the master bathroom with the steam shower.
Richard undressed. Not slowly, but not fast either. In a leisurely pace I suppose; casually. He dropped everything and got into the big glass box that was the shower and pushed some buttons. It even had a bench inside to sit down on.
I had gotten down to my boxers and paused, hands in front of my genitals. I supposed that if we were to shower, then I should get totally naked too, but I was hesitant. Richard was walking around with his dick pointing upwards, not minding that I was looking at it. Like it was normal, like it was no biggie – except that it was, big I mean. I imagined that I wouldn’t mind it if other people looked at mine if it were of a similar size. However, it certainly wasn’t, and as such I was not eager to display my own.
Coming out of the shower, he absentmindedly said “I engaged the quick-start feature, we’ll get warm steam within a minute or so, two at most”. Noticing me standing there, nervous and fidgeting, he came closer – him and his erect cock. He stopped in front of me and bent down. “Hey, I get it.. we’re not supposed to be nekkid together”. He paused and waited for me to stop regarding his angry-looking penis. As I finally managed to find eye contact with him, he continued, “But you can trust me.. and I can trust you, right? After all, we’re a family – and family is sacred, and especially this; our secret”.
I felt a bit more sure of myself, and stood with more confidence. I could to this. I could help Richard, and by doing so help both myself and my hard-working mother. I allowed him to pull apart my hands from where they had been intertwined in front of my nether region. He proceeded to gently lower my boxers to the tiled floor.
“There we go,” he said, “not so bad, ey?”. Looking from my willy to my face, he winked at me, made a chik-chik sound, and added, “Just as pretty as the rest of you”. He then ushered me into the warm, humid steam of the glass box shower.
In there, he ran his large, powerful hands all over me. Massaging my neck, and down my back to my little butt. He bent down and whispered in my ear how much he appreciated that I was willing to try and help him with his pressure, and he was certain that even though Mommy could never know about it, she would have a lot to thank me for as well”. Meanwhile, he had been fondling my wiener – which felt very good and gave me a stiffy. I was thankful that he stood behind me and couldn’t see how my cheeks were burning red in my face.
When he stopped, I was disappointed. I wanted more of what he had been doing. However, as he turned me around, and I suddenly found myself standing inches away from his boner right at my eye level, I realized that it was time for me to try and do something that would help me hold onto this new and luxurious lifestyle.
I looked at it, and around it. The difference in age was reflected in the dissimilarities of our bodies. His was somewhat muscular and more than 6 feet tall with a weight of probably around 220 pounds, versus my petite frame of 4 feet 2 inches at 56 pounds. I also noticed that whereas I only had hair on my head, he had a trimmed stubble around his groin and also had hair on his upper chest as well as the hair on his arms and legs that had become matted against the skin.
“Do what you did before,” he said. Reaching out with my minute right hand, I first ran my fingers against the course short cropped hair around the base of his hard phallus before I clasped onto it. Tentative at first, I quickly became bolder and bolder with how I massaged and tugged on it. It didn’t exactly slow me down that he urged me on with fervor.
As I had begun jerking the top and shaft of with both my hands, under increasingly eager encouragement and praise from my stepdad, I rarely managed to look at anything else than his bulging tool in my small hands. With the way that it seemingly throbbed, as if it had a heartbeat of its own, I could relate to his earlier words of piled up pressure inside of it.
His breathing then changed, and soon thereafter the mushroom tip of his pulsating dick started to shoot string after string of lukewarm manmilk right at me. Onto my forehead, nose, lips, neck and chest. With a couple of slow steps back, he sank down on top of the bench there in the shower. He was breathing slowly, deeply and sighing. His dong was starting to hang downwards.
“That was… superb,” he said, “an excellent effort. I’d give you an A”. I didn’t feel like I had been doing anything complicated or especially arduous, but I wasn’t going to turn down easily earned praise.
As Richard stood and joined me again after a few minutes, and we washed our hair and bodies with shampoo and soap respectively, I couldn’t help but notice that his third leg was growing in size and was soon standing erect again. I figured I might have to grab onto it and rub the pressure out of it for a second time, but he didn’t say anything and so I did nothing more even though I deliberated extensively about it.
Having finished with the showering, we soon sat down in the living room sofa again – wearing bathrobes. He then hugged me close to his side, and opened up his bathrobe. There it was again, seemingly wanting my attention – which it got. I was captivated with it and the things I had seen already. He took my hand and placed it on his rigid shaft. We sat there, watching TV, while I tugged away at his ding-dong.
“You should try kissing it,” he eventually said. Looking at him to make sure that he wasn’t kidding – and he didn’t seem to be; he was nodding his head in encouragement – I bent down and indeed planted an intrepid kiss on his downstairs head. It wasn’t bad, or scary, at all really. Up close, it smelled of the lemon scented soap from the shower. As he asked for more, he got more kisses. Two, three, a half dozen. I looked up at him, wanting him to be pleased. He was. I went back to tugging on his big, warm schlong.
“Try.. Try taking it inside, you know, your mouth. Like, erm, a big lollipop,” he urged. At that, I was hesitant. Jerking on it with my small hands and giving it a bunch of kisses seemed much easier than struggling with it inside my mouth and possibly choking on it. It didn’t look particularly friendly. “I should tell you,” he added, “that it’s one of the very best ways to relieve the pressure and make me feel good.. and if you show that you can do this – then I’m positively certain that we will stay a happy family”.
Slowly, but with a mounting determination to see this through while Mom was away, I put my hands on his thigh and leaned in over it. I started by merely putting my lips on his bell-end as if giving it a kiss, but then went further by parting my thin lips which were gradually gliding down over it as more than an inch entered my mouth. When I started to struggle to fit any more in my mouth, jaws spread as wide as possible and straining by being forced to stay that way, I stopped. Momentarily, I thought I was going to choke, before I realized I could breathe through my nose.
My tongue was wrestling for space, which resulted in me moving it around. Evidently, this was well received by Richard as he moaned out a loud “Oww yeaaah”. Unfortunately for me, that was accompanied by him moving his boner further into my mouth causing me to properly choke on it.
With a shock, I pulled away from him – from it. A string of saliva extended from his tip to my lips before it fell away. After he had apologized for getting carried away and placated me for a few moments, I cautiously tried it again – this time on alert for anything like it happening again.
Thankfully, it didn’t. With aching jaws, I tried to follow his mumbled instructions of moving my head and moving my tongue while minding my teeth.
Suddenly, he hastily had me stop sucking him off and instead pushed me down on my back in the sofa next to him. With equal haste he forcefully pulled open my bathrobe before he leaned in over me. He did a few quick tugs on his apparatus and after that the cum exploded out from his tip all over my little body while he craned his head back and groaned loudly. I mostly got it over my flat stomach and chest. One stream hit my cheek, and a few of the last, not so intense streams, went on my genitalia.
After I had gotten out of the couch, bathrobe properly wrapped around me again, I noticed that some of Richard’s fluid had ended up beside where I’d been laying. He noticed it too. He spent a couple of minutes trying to remove it up with some sort of cleaner, but it still left a small stain.
“Oh well,” he said, and flipped the cushion over. “I’ll deal with it later”.
“What if Mom sees it?”, I fretted.
“No worries,” he replied. “Even if she does, and knows what it is, I can just say that I rubbed one out when being alone and thinking about her. She might even like that”. Thereafter, with the bothersome pressure inside Richard having been expunged, he felt like we had earned ourselves some reward. Therefore, he put on some clothes and ordered us pizza.
The next night, when Mom was away again until the day shift started, we went into the shower once more. Richard massaged me with some sort of oil and then started running his fingers between my small asscheeks. Ultimately, he went so far as to slide a finger into – yes, inside – my butthole. At first, I was totally weirded out and felt uncomfortable. However, exactly as he promised, it then started to feel more and more OK. When he was done with that, and I felt both thankful and yet disappointed all at once, he turned me around so that I could give him head. I opened my mouth wide, feeling my narrow lips stretch to their limit as I sucked on his hard-on until he got to, with loud groans, empty himself. After that, his bulging dick calmed down, and he was positively pleased with me and what I’ve done.
It went on like that the next few nights, I sucked on Richard’s man meat until it released its white, warm milk in quick streams into my mouth, or onto my face or my body, up until Mom had a few days off and then worked during daytime.
As time went by, and our secret encounters, where I assiduously assisted my stepfather in purging his pressure, grew in number, I became somewhat familiar with his seed. I didn’t instantly push it out with my tongue, but tasted it more thoroughly and even tried swallowing some of it once when he suggested I’d do so. It tasted a little salty and sort of like a bad apple. I didn’t much like how warm it was.
We kept having the sexy time in the living room sofa with the TV on, or in my bedroom, and - perhaps most tantalizing for me - in their master bedroom. Yet, it was in the steam shower that he usually fingered me with slicky, oiled up fingers. After a while, he advanced to using two fingers at a time. I would close my eyes, with my hands against the wall, as he used the thumb, index- and middle finger of his other hand to jack my willy off simultaneously. I would rock my little body back and forward; moving my butt onto his penetrating fingers, and my stiffy inside his other, gently clasping fingers. I earned a greater understanding for the pressure that he himself needed to have released, as I would many times get into an almost trance-like state and eventually have fireworks and explosions going on inside my head while my genitals contracted and spasmed. No semen came out of my stiffy though, which was somewhat of a disappointment for me. Although my pressure was evidently there, maybe it hadn’t reached its full potential.
About two months into our super-secret adventures, he tickled my tummy from the inside for the first time. It was a Friday night. As there would be no school for the next two days, I wanted to stay up late and play games online. However, at Richard’s suggestion, we went for a shower. He oiled me up thoroughly, and fingered me, which wasn’t at all unusual at that point. However, I was a little surprised when he turned off the shower and handed me my bathrobe while putting his own on. So, I thought, he didn’t want me to relieve his pressure there and then? I was sort of disappointed. I had come to be quite fond of those activities and getting to see him climax. It was something both forbidden and equally cool at the same time.
I was thinking that maybe Mom had done a good job herself of helping, before she left for work, what was really her partner, but from my experience during the last month, that seemed unlikely. Moreover, his manhood was standing as erect as usual and looked very rigid. I was thinking that maybe there was a TV show coming up that he wanted to watch while I serviced his rod on the couch? It wouldn’t have been the first time.
Without an abundance of words, he, however, guided me into their bedroom and told me to get on the bed. After closing the blinds, he told me that I was to get an adult massage. As he turned from the window and moved towards the king-sized bed, he untied and opened his bathrobe – reveling his big, hard dick that pointed upwards towards the ceiling.
With a gentle but nonetheless firm touch, he had me lay down on top of the covers. It was not as if I had been standing there dillydallying for a long time. Really, I had been about to hop onto the bed, but it was just that that I had lost my train of thought when I saw his cock moving towards me. Not for the first time, I had visualized what it would have been like to have a similar one myself. How grand I would feel – not to mention the status it would give me in the boys’ locker room. Even if I’d still suck at sports, I’d at least be able to walk around naked with pride and not feel the need to try and make myself invisible. I would no longer attempt to cover up my wiener; instead, I would lord it over the others; I could very well win any and all dick-comparisons at school.
As I lay there, on my back, he opened my bathrobe. My excitement and curiosity to all of this which was still new to me was signaled from my erect willy. I saw him look at it, and he seemed pleased, which gave me delight in turn.
Having thrown his own bathrobe beside the bed, he leaned forward over me and braced himself on his arms. Then he shimmied and moved so that his large slippery tip glided all over and against my own stiffy. Craning my neck and looking down at it, the disparity in the sizes of our things mirrored the difference in age and physique. It was as if a baby snake was being greeted by its parent.
I leaned my head back again. My frail neck had been hurting from the exertion, but it had been fun to watch when he played with me – when our things played with each other. Soon thereafter, it was as if the meeting and greeting phase was over anyways. He leaned forward even more, his hairy chest close to my face, and started poking and grinding his baby-maker harder and harder into my lower regions and my abdomen.
Within a minute he was breathing heavily, occasionally grunting. I could feel a slickness on my belly. Obviously, he hadn’t relieved his pressure yet, but with the amount that was – in my mind – already leaking out of his tip, he must have had a lot of pressure inside him this time.
Then, all of a sudden, he started laughing, for some reason. At that point, I felt comfortable enough around him, even naked as we were, not to immediately think that there was something humorous about me, in a bad way. As he leaned up and away from me, he was seemingly talking more to himself than to me, quietly saying “almost got ahead of myself there. Need to calm down”.
Sort of confused, I wondered why – if it had been possible for him to relieve himself, as it indeed had seemed like he was going to – hadn’t he done so? I would have been completely fine with taking his sploosh on my stomach. As he was in the process of turning me around so that I was placed on my stomach – him pulling away my bathrobe from underneath me and tossing it next to his on the floor - I gave voice to my confusion. In response, he told me that if he could drag it out and postpone the point when he emptied his pressure, it would feel even better for him and last him longer until he needed to do it again. For all the experience I had been gaining recently, I still had so much to learn.
While I felt comfortable being naked and having my backside on display before him, I had my head tilted to the side and my eyes closed while contemplating the wisdom of his words, he added “Besides, I did say you were gonna get a massage, didn’t I?”. True to his words, he began massaging me. He moved from my slender neck and thin shoulders down my back. Eventually, my little buttocks were getting thoroughly kneaded and intermittently squeezed.
When I felt him sliding his big rod between my buttcheeks, however, I was somewhat startled. Putting my arms underneath my chest, I leaned upwards and looked backwards. Richard placated my concerns by telling me that we were doing great. Supposing that he was right, I laid down completely flat again. As he leaned forward over me, and more earnestly started prodding his hard thing in my rump and moving it back and forth, I figured that this sex thing wasn’t complicated nor bad at all. From what I had seen in the few pornos I had watched, it had looked about the same as what we were doing.
A minute or two like that continued. I was proud of being able to get Richard this excited about me, and while his warm cock was being pressured into the crack of in my little ass, backward and forward, my own erection was poking into the mattress beneath me. It felt so thrilling that I actually started humping into the bed.
“Feels nice huh?,” he asked. I answered “Yes”. At first, I thought he must not have heard that I answered in affirmative because he stopped, even though I didn’t want him to. He was moving from being directly on top of me, to the side of the bed. Reaching out to the bedside table, he opened the top drawer and took out a dark tube of something. He opened it, and pushed some gel-looking substance onto his palm.
As he was once again positioning himself on his knees with one leg to either side of me, beneath my tooshie, he said “I think you’re ready to be deflowered, aren’t you?”. Not knowing any better, I said “O-Okay”.
Initially, for a brief second, there was an alarming coldness. The gel, I realized. Pleasure followed. He fingered me. First carefully with one finger, sort of swirling it around. Then, he used two fingers and began moving them in and out, increasingly faster. I was really liking that. The first times he had fingered me, I had mostly been occupied by thoughts about how it was wrong and dirty – and not in an excited look-at-us-being-naughty kind of way. Then, I had grown to like it, really like it, to the point where I had started to consider it a type of special reward granted me for helping him with his pressure so many times.
As I lay there, relaxed and enjoying my reward with a vast amount of erotic energy coursing through my petite, juvenile body, I heard him saying “Oh man, I’m gonna love this!”. Following that, he stopped moving his heavenly fingers in me. Rather disappointed – not wanting him to stop – I figured that I should turn around and give him the mouth so that his pressure could finally be dealt with. He, however, stopped me from turning around and told me to lie still. So, I did.
He repositioned himself to be on top of me. One at a time, his large hands grabbed a hold of one my own minute hands and interlaced them, pulling my hands up to the side a bit and pressing them into the mattress as he supported much of his bodyweight on our hands. In a slow, rhythmic tempo, he thrust his hard organ between my little buttocks. His manhood was prodding around, sliding back and forth. I figured that he’d grind on me until he jizzed. That’s not what happened. Instead, I started to feel something that would change me forever.
The tip of his cock had found its mark. It had gone from being around the entrance of my assiduously fingered boygina, to sliding in due to the ever-increasing pressure that he was applying. Squeezing his much larger hands as a response to the uneasiness I experienced due to his penetration, it dawned on me that this was it; the sex. We were going to have the real adult sex. This was what it was. This was how it felt!
Carefully, he was moving back and forth, and pumped his tip in and out of me. I.. I was proud. This was the real deal. We were linked; we were one. The stepdad who gave me everything, and I who wanted to earn all his goodwill in return. Then, the exhilaration of pieces falling into place and feelings of awe vanished as all of a sudden, pain took the main stage. Pain overwhelmed, perhaps replaced entirely, the feelings of pleasure I had felt mere moments before.
Without warning, he had in rapid succession done a couple of pushes which propelled his member further, deeper. I couldn’t help but cry out! Thankfully he stopped, his dick lodged in me. I could feel myself spasm around it, trying to adjust to the intruding size of it.
Thinking I couldn’t bear it, I tried getting away from his thing, but I couldn’t move. He pinned me down with his weight on top me. He let go of my hands and moved one of his own back to his thing and my struggling, tiny ass. For a split second I felt relief as his dick eased out of me, only to be doubly horrified as it was shoved into me again. I whimpered loudly. Tears were leaving my eyes. I felt his warm breath on me as he told me to be brave and relax. “J-jus-just n-no moar,” I meekly begged.
Mercifully, he listened to my plead and settled for thrusting his tip and some of his shaft back and forth, in and out. From the onset, it had become clear that I wasn’t going anywhere. I was solidly pinned down by the much, much larger man. He rested on my back. I was pushed into the otherwise so comfortable mattress, unable to really view anything to the sides except the hairy forearms of my stepdad.
“A little bit more,” he said. Thinking that he meant that his release was nigh, I felt relief. My ordeal would soon be over. Out of all the ways that we had previously relieved his pressure, this was certainly not one that I liked – and if I could only get some breathing room, I would tell him so. I would happily provide him with tug- and suckjobs, but no more of this.
However, when he instead proceeded to delve even deeper into me with his angry organ, my panic rebounded… “No-oh! N-no!”, I implored while struggling for leverage against his body on top of me, pushing me into the mattress. I shed more tears of pain into the covers.
Momentarily halting, he murmured “You’re doing sooo good, so good to me”. Then he started going again. Even though I tried pleading for him to stop and listen to me, he kept thrusting in and out, in and out, mumbling that I was so good to him and that he was going to keep taking care of me.
Having, in panic, exerted every ounce of strength I had in efforts to get out from underneath him and his penetrating rod, I was getting very fatigued. For all my efforts, it seemed like I couldn’t budge him a fraction of an inch. Among his frantic whispers into my ears, there were words and suggestions about focusing on my breathing and trying to stay limp and relaxed – which was anything but easy!
I resolved to try and endure it, one thrust at a time. What else was there for me to do? From where I started counting, it quickly reached ten. From ten to twenty. In doing that, I not only calmed down my mind but also my petite body. I became, for the lack of a better option, resigned to put up with it the best I could. Soon, before the count of forty, I realized I was no longer keeping track. I had lost count. Every new assault from his hard cock was less invasive, less excruciating. Pain had turned into more of a sense of manageable, albeit hurting, uncomfortableness.
At one point, I came to the realization that I was loudly moaning in unison with his grunts. Comprehending that it indeed felt better not to hold it in, I practically started shouting out reiterations of “Aow! Ow! Aoow! Ow!”. Once I had started to moan in earnestness, I felt a little better about the whole thing – it made it more bearable.
Like before, I started moving with him, pushing my own stiffy into the bed underneath me when he drove forward. He had long since stopped taking pauses as he slid back and forth in my tight rump. He was well and truly sexing me up.
“Just the two of us… T-The two of us.. Oh, oh yeah! L-Loving you,” he frantically bellowed and kept thrusting in me.
If that truly was the case, then I was even less inclined to go back to begging him to stop. I wasn’t going to be a whimp and try to bail out. I wasn’t going to fail Stepdad in helping him to relieve his pressure, and therefore I would by extension not be being failing myself nor Mom. We were going to keep living in that fancy house, and that was that.
As minutes must have passed, the pain became less acute, and blessedly substituted by sensations of pleasure at an increasing rate. As he hammered my insides, his unrelatedly hard thing spread satisfaction from my diminutive ass out through my small body. The way I imagined it, my body was working up a gratifying amount of enjoyment to counteract the enormous pressure my stepdad had inside of him that needed to be expunged. My “Aow”s and “Ow”s of displeasure were progressively exchanged for “Ooo”s ,“Mmm”s and “Yii”s of pleasure.
“T-That’s it! Y-Yes! Yes! OH YES!” He exclaimed from on top of me. “Y-You like it, huh? You like it?” he asked.
“Mmm – y-yeah,” I managed to meekly answer between high pitched moans of increasing pleasure interlaced with a receding pain.
“C-call me Daddy, i-if you w-want to,” he said.
“O-Ok,” I stuttered.
“Y-you like getting.. f-fucked by Daddy, d-don’t you?” he almost hissed.
“Mmmmm,” I mumbled. I also nodded, but I don’t think that he could see or feel that where he lay on top of me pushing me into the mattress.
“OooooooH, I know you d-do”, he said while increasing his tempo.
I wanted Richard, i.e. Stepdad or simply Daddy now, to fill me with his white juice that was the clear cut evidence of him getting rid of his pressure, but at the same time I didn’t want him to stop being inside me, making me feel what I was feeling. As if he had read my mind, and the conflicting feelings therein, he ended my conundrum as he pushed into me with a substantial force while his cock started pulsating and pulsating there far inside me. Subsequently, I felt how copious amounts of his white, sticky liquid ran out around his shaft that was inserted deep into my bumhole. It ran down my little crack, to my tiny balls from where it started pooling up on the cover.
As he sank down on me, even more so than before, he took very deep breaths. His member was finally done spasming inside me. I feared suffocating beneath him. “Umh,” I said while laboring for cool air. Seemingly becoming aware of my predicament, he rolled off of me and said “Sorry”. Tapping me on my assailed behind, he added “That.. Was.. The BEST! You, my sweetie, have the best little ass ever! Never change – at least try not to”.
After we had been doing it properly – the secret stuff where my stepdad’s thing said hello inside my rump – for a couple of months whenever Mom was on a night shift, Richard then started to occasionally take pictures and short videos on his iPhone of us being unclothed together. It would start out like that. Me undressing and getting a woody as I did so – feeling exceedingly mischievous with him taking pictures as I knew that I wasn’t supposed to be naked in front of him or vice versa, and thinking about what was about to happen.
He would get bare himself, with (as always) a sizeable erection while complimenting me with words like “beautiful”, “pretty”, “cock-tease” and/or “porn star”. He would use his phone to record us during the act, as well as afterwards for what he called “cum-shots”. Later, when my adventurous side would take a backseat, I had worried at first about Mom, or anyone else for that matter, seeing those photos or short videos. He, however, promised me emphatically that what he didn’t properly delete, were being stored on a flash drive in a place as secret as our activities. He also added that he had bought a program to encrypt them so that no one other than him could see the files.
With me being a willing, little daddy-fucker, it didn’t take him long to expand upon the concept of me being a pornostar – which seemingly got us both randy. The iPhone got replaced with a tripod stand and a legit camera which he used when he would sink the pink in me. I would still suck on his unit, but I learned to consider that a prelude to what was to follow. He would tickle my insides while I lay on my stomach, or on my back, or when I stood on all fours. Sometimes, he would be sitting up somewhere and I would straddle him as he then entered me. It could be in their bedroom, in mine, in the living room, in the shower, in his office or even in his home gym. We basically did stuff everywhere.
He told me that looking at playbacks of us two doing the forbidden things helped him get through during the weeks when Mom worked regular hours and I couldn’t take turns with her to keep him satiated. That didn’t make much sense to me, because even when Mom was working dayshifts, he would at that time usually spray his sticky milk inside of me on most days after he picked me up from school and before she got home from work. I didn’t point that out to him, though. Besides, I had quickly started to like it, and also expect it. Sure, it could hurt initially – but damn if it didn’t also feel good. Moreover, having used my computer to look up how unallowed it was for us to be doing sexy stuff together made me feel devilishly naughty; like a bad boy in disguise.
The first few times when recording non-stop with the new camera, we did it under the covers as I had recently developed a preference for. The usual routine entailed that we would check the locks on the doors, then close whatever blinds or curtains that needed to be closed. Being in their master bedroom was the easiest, because that’s where, in a bedside cabinet, they kept the gel called “lube” that I would put on what he oftentimes called my pussy. Most of the time I would do those things myself; getting naked with a smidgeon of that slicky lubrication in my butt and crawling under the covers while Richard set up his camera.
My newfound preference for being under the covers stemmed from what had happened at school. This new kid had started in my class, and for some reason he had almost instantly been making fun of me, for example asking if I, as “Slender Boy”, was related to the scary Slender Man – and if he therefore should be careful not to aggravate me? In school, there were if not plenty, then at least several other, about equally skinny boys, but for some reason he seemed to have taken a dislike in me particularly. I suppose he didn’t exactly trouble me incessantly, to the point where it would be called actual bullying. It was just that he had made fun of me enough times that it was on my mind. It didn’t help that my lack of body weight was a sore spot for me. Neither did it help that the (sort of) two friends that I had, never really tried to help out.
Thus, I became more sensitive and more self-conscious. Even if I stood alone at school, I didn’t have to lie down alone at home. However, I even started to try and hide my body from Richard when we did the naked things. Even though it could get very warm, I always wanted to be under the covers. When that wasn’t really an option, depending on where we were working to purge his pressure, I would often try to keep a sweater or hoody on my upper body so that I was only naked from the waist down.
Although Richard seemed to love me with a passion, I sometimes had a hard time loving myself – hence the desire to sort of make our intimacy even more confidential and hidden away from the recording camera lens. At the same time, I didn’t in actuality dislike the camera for being there – I wanted to be a bad boy that was fucking on video. I was merely hesitant about it seeing all of me, if that made any sense.
I guess a part of me was afraid that if I let my stepdad look at me for too long, too many times, he would eventually start seeing the loser that I imagined that others saw. For some blessed reason, he simply hadn’t already. I didn’t want him to lose interest in having me help him relieve his pressure – I’d become very keen on our sexual relation. Alongside feeling good, it was providing me with a sense of self-worth.
Eventually, Richard took notice of my odd behavior and pried about what was wrong. He had been about to sex me up, and had tried to remove the covers which I had been clinging onto. Upon noticing my stubborn reluctance to letting go of them, he had stopped his impending penetration. Instead, he simply laid under the covers next to me, his strong and hard member poking into my side as he stroked my body and waited for me to unburden myself.
I hadn’t planned on crying to him, but as soon as I tried to explain my peculiar behavior as of late, that’s what happened. As usual, he knew how to cheer me up. He talked about how I shouldn’t fret or worry about it. That the bully, who most likely was displeased with himself and probably had a boring and uneventful life, only tried to make himself feel better by trying to bring me down. Besides, he went on saying, I was a pretty as can be and that being skinny is something many people strive for nowadays. It was fashionable, or something like that. He talked about how most all of the famous models were thin. He went on about how being slim with a tight and firm, little butt like mine was extremely sexy.
Moreover, he suggested as he crawled on top of me and pushed my legs apart, maybe this other boy was merely jealous because he was a real fatty. A fatty, fat fatso. With all of that, he made me feel better. However, a part of me suspected that he only said that to be nice – because that’s what we were; nice to each other.
Not that I was miraculously happy, but as he entered me slowly, I thought about how he truly seemed to like me and my body – how could anyone fake the interest he was showing me? - which made me okay with how he tossed the covers aside and then started to torpedo me on the bed in the open, so to speak. It would all be seen on the video that he, or should I say we, were recording. Having been shown some of the earlier videos, I knew that I would be looking tiny compared to him when we did the naked hugging. While that couldn’t be helped, I knew that the girly-sounding noises that I had been making those times shouldn’t be an inevitability, and therefore tried to sound more manly as I was being plowed.
As the days and eventually weeks passed, I got better and better at coping with and ignoring the new semi-bully (not reacting, keeping a blank face and thinking that he was jelly), which made him lose a lot of the negative interest he had in me.
On the bright side of things, I knew that Richard was very pleased with me. He not only said as much when we were alone – especially when he was sexing with me, but he also proved it by being in a fantastic mood all of the time. Not that he had been grumpy before or anything, but it was simply that he seemed more full of energy. To me, it was merely another example of the importance of what we were doing in secret – how his pressure needed to be continuously addressed.
Often when we had done a firsts-sort-of-thing, he would give me a gift afterwards. For example, after our first sex tape, where you could see everything so to speak, I got the newly released iPhone 5. After the first time in his garage gym, I got the new iPad 4. That had been a quite fun time. We had both been exercising naked. He had had a raging boner most of the time, which I got to touch and kiss on. When he reciprocated by touching me, mine easily stood at full attention as well. In the end, when our playtime was over and it was time for me to purge his pressure properly, he sat on a fitness bench. I put my slender legs around him and lowered myself onto his pole so that he could pump it in and out of me and eventually release his burden.
During class when I got bored, it happened - increasingly so as I became more and more experienced in the naked romance stuff - that I pictured myself fondling the dicks of other men or even going all the way and doing the sex with them. I had imagined how the male teachers would look naked, what their dicks might look like when they got hard, and how it would be to lie with them, allowing them to enter into me when I spread my skinny legs. Not that my grades really needed improving all that much, but I fantasized about being a dirty boy and offering to let them relieve their pressure in me for straight As. Upon doing so, I would pitch a tent – though I always made sure no one could notice it. I suppose it came in handy that mine wasn’t especially big. That didn’t stop me from getting flustered cheeks though, and when thinking about my flustered cheeks and how weird my thoughts were, I simply became more flustered.
Thinking back, I didn’t consider myself gay. It’s not like I actively was, or had been, going around ogling other boys or had a crush on any of them. On the contrary, there were several girls that I had been infatuated with, but none of them had shown any interest in me – not that I had ever dared to expressly make my interest known to them though.
I had more than a few nightmares about others finding out and tormenting me about being a fag and a daddy-fucker. In my bad dreams, that’s what the boys at school would shout at me, while the teachers looked at me with frowns of admonition and shook their heads, and the girls were giggling themselves silly and whispering among themselves while pointing at me.
One weekend, during the summer when school was out, Mom was out of town for a conference and training seminar with her work. It was a Saturday, and Richard had two of his friends over. I recognized both George and Diego. They’d been at my stepdad’s Superbowl party almost half a year earlier, and every now and then one, or both, would be over for a workout in his garage gym.
The three were childhood friends, and from the way they got along, I got somewhat jealous. Jealous of what it would be like to have such a strong friendship with someone that you could see each other a few times a month and still be that close. They had what seemed like an endless amount of inside jokes and had an easy time for laughter. Myself, I sort of never had a friend come over – the way I spent time with the pseudo-friends I had, was that we played games together online.
Like Richard, his two buddies were in their late fifties. They’d grown up together, played football together, chased girls together and stayed close friends ever since. George was a little bit taller than Richard, baldheaded and heavyset with a big gut. Diego, with a Hispanic heritage, was shorter than the other two, but still towered over me by a lot. It didn’t look like he was out of shape either. Later, I would find out that Diego was married with two adult kids, one in college and one in graduate school. George was divorced and had a daughter who worked as an accountant.
We were all sitting in the living room couch, watching a UFC event and eating buttered popcorn. They had beers, while I drank soda. Some guy named Weidman and some woman named Rousey would be trying to defend their belts.
Some earlier fights were taking place, before what I was told were the main fights of the two champions. I sat between Richard and George, with Diego on the other side of my stepdad. As the preliminary fights were coming to a close, the sofa table had collected a small gathering of empty beer bottles.
The men, who had previously been talking sports, were now primarily discussing girls from their youths. High-school sweethearts. Hotties that they had been aching to fuck, but never been able to. The more they drank, the looser their tongues became, and the louder they got. With George being single, Richard and Diego started talking about single MILFs (whatever that was) they knew, that he could try to pursue. Richard also said that they could look for a babysitter for me, that George could make the moves on. George seemed most interested in the babysitter idea – but he didn’t want it to be a young bitch that would get him into trouble. “Maybe I can put that on some sort of application flier – cannot be a tattle tailing b-i-t-c-h,” Richard joked.
Later, following up on the whole forbidden-fruit-babysitter-deal, Richard started asking about the youngest they’d banged. Diego answered that he didn’t know – which made Richard snort and respond with a “How can you not know, man!?”. At about the same time, George – who sat on my right – bit by bit said “That.. would be.. on.. that trip abroad, you know”.
“Ah yes, the young professional we fucked in Thailand,” Richard said happily.
That seemed to shock George. “Geez man,” he then paused and looked at me before looking at my stepdad again, “no need to sugarcoat it THAT much”. I hadn’t yet learned about sarcasm.
Not really paying attention to George’s comment, Richard looked to Diego and said “Well then, shall we assume that the same goes for you, Dee?”.
“Yupp,” Diego replied.
The men all got quiet after that. Almost a minute passed. Seemingly still reminiscing, my stepdad said “Ah well, she wasn’t a bad catch at all. Young with beautiful, tiny tits and a real close fit between her legs. Money well spent – not just for the time, but for the memory of it, ey? Amiright or am I right?”. To my right, George drank his beer and nodded, while I could hear Diego say “Aye”.
“Not to brag, fellas, but I gotta say that you’re rookies compared to me,” Richard boasted following a deep sigh.
“OH, is that so?” Diego replied skeptically.
“That is so,” my stepdad answered while he put his right arm around my narrow shoulders and hugged me close while wiggling his eyebrows. “With the help of my dashing, little playboy, I’ve become quite the connoisseur of late, if I do say so myself”.
Diego leaned forward and looked at us, then he exchanged looks with George, and then they both looked at us, at Richard, and then back at each other.
“Nah.. No way.. You’re messing with us,” George said with incredulity. “Ha hah, good one, nearly had me there for a second”.
“Mmm, maybe.. maybe not,” Richard answered while he still had his right arm around me and gently stroked my lean upper arm with his forefinger. “What would you say if – IF - I said that I’m not?”
“That you’re nuts,” Diego retorted. “That we’re NOT having this conversation right now. That you shouldn’t say anything more and we should leave it at that”. George said nothing, but I could feel his gaze on me, as if he was sizing me up, taking my measurements or something. On the other side of my stepdad, Diego sat more forward on his cushion, also looking at me more intently, still.
“I mean, we DID talk about something similar there in Thailand, if I recall correctly”, said Richard.
“Yeah, well, that was then and there, and besides we were drunk and hot blooded” said George.
“Fair enough,” Richard said. “But we’re not exactly sober now, are we? Aaand as it turns out, I’ve found myself a real gem here at home”. After he had said that, he put his free hand under my left leg and then proceeded to move me up and onto his lap. I was getting a little anxious at that point. I could feel his boner under my tushie and I was getting worried that his friends would figure out our secret if I stayed in his lap much longer. Like, we had been having the sex in that same spot, several times before.
Richard continued talking. “It’s not an experience you’ll forget”. Afterwards, no one said anything for a time. I hadn’t exactly been following and comprehending everything in their conversations, but I could feel a tension in the air amongst the four of us, and a focus on me. I started to watch the new fight on the television again. Upon leaning forward for the popcorn, Richard nudged me forward and told me to take my shorts off. Apparently, they had a seam which was uncomfortable for him when I sat in his lap, or so he said.
Upon suggesting that I could go back to sitting next to him instead, he insisted that it was cozier if sat with him. Feeling awkward, I got up in front of the sofa, pulled down my shorts, stepped out of them, and had my little, white briefs exposed in front of everyone. While I knew that I was too old to be undressing in front of essentially strangers, it also felt like a naughty thing to do. Like something I shouldn’t do, and therefore something the bad boy part of me drove me to do. It reminded me of the warming sensation I felt when pictures were taken of me naked.
Without much delay, Richard’s hands ended up on my little posterior as I stood in front of him. “Check out that sweet ass, fellas,” he said. Alarm bells were ringing in my head; I knew he meant that in a sexual manner, especially from the way he was grasping my buttocks. At the same time, I couldn’t help but being proud and getting excited even though this felt like treading on more dangerous ground. I thought that maybe me and Richard should leave the room for a while so that he could relieve his pressure in me. I could sense that he was getting worked up, and therefore so was I almost by extension. Maybe we could make a one-time exception and have relations even though there were other people at home. It’s not as if Mom was home, at least.
That’s when I got my first sexual compliment from someone other than my stepdad – because George said “Lookin’ good”.
“So… what would the two of you have been doing then, supposedly?”, Diego then wondered.
Richard, taking a gentle hold of me and putting me in his lap once again, went on by calmly saying “Oh, you know, the usual”. He was, however, escalating the whole thing by softly stroking my willy through my underwear, resulting in me getting a stiffy and becoming flustered. “Some second base,” he went on saying, while feeling me up so that they could see. They were watching intently which made me look away, at the television and a fight which seemed totally unimportant. In the corner of my eye, I could see George to the right, unbuttoning his pants beneath his beer-belly.
“Some third base,” my stepdad said, and stroked my thin lips with a finger. “And wouldn’t you know it, countless home runs”. Then, he started pulling on my underwear. I put my small hands on his to stop him, turned my head and looked back at him, and shook it. “Oh, come on now, let the guys see you,” he encouraged, “we’re all friends here”. Movement to the left caught my eye – Diego was stroking his groin through his jeans.
Again, Richard tugged on my boxers. I let it happen. I raised my narrow, bony hips and let him pull them down. Not that I really could have held back his strong hands even if I had wanted to. After that, I sat there, naked from the waist down with an erection that couldn’t be helped since he within an instant had started fondling my small wiener and tiny balls – and beneath my exposed behind, I could feel his wood, struggling against being contained in his khakis. With my stepdad using his free hand to pull up my t-shirt and holding it against my flat chest, it’s not as if my stiffy remained hidden either.
Having taken a couple of big gulps of his beer, Diego pulled down his zipper. “Are we.. really doing this?”, he asked.
“Why not?”, my stepdad said. “You only live once. Thus cutie.. can be quite committed to helping one get off in a mind-blowing fashion”. I surmised that he was talking about me. As usual, I was torn. On the one hand, I wanted him to stop giving indications about our hush-hush, secret vow doings, and on the other I wanted him to keep giving me praise and hinting at his friends about how sinful I could be. Moreover, with the way he was pushing my thin legs to the sides and playing with my private parts, I just wanted more.
“Besides, no need to worry about getting caught, not with this one… We know how to keep a secret, don’t we?” Richard said in a loud whisper. I nodded earnestly. Secrets, especially the most forbidden ones, were our thing. You could bank on it. In my ear, he then whispered, quietly this time, “Time for our special hammer time”. I wasn’t even confused any more. I knew he was worked up - and oh gosh, I was too. This would simply, out of pure necessity, have to be a one-time occurrence, where we would do some naked hugging even though we weren’t alone in the house.
As he moved me onto my feet, he said “skedaddle to my bed and get ready”. Doing as he’d suggested, I went to the master bedroom, yanking down my t-shirt to cover my stiffy as I walked to the windows and closed the blinds. Subsequently, I took off my socks and t-shirt. As usual, I found the slippery lube in the bedside table and put a click of it on my love hole before I got under the covers, stark naked.
Within a minute, Daddy entered the room, shedding an item of clothing for every step. He wasted no time crawling under the covers and getting on top of me. Resting on my back, I spread my legs. His fuckstick nosed around the entrance of my boycavity before he, in a resolute push, entered with a groan. As he was beginning to pound me, I was trying to suppress my moans since he had left the door open. I tried hushing him while managing my own sounds in as best I could, but it was difficult. He didn’t even care about my attempts to point out that the door wasn’t closed.
Everything was going fine – well, in all honesty Daddy was being perhaps a bit too rough with his thrusts, but I had experience in enduring it - until his friends showed up. My view of them was largely obstructed by Daddy’s upper body which was leaned in over me. I could hear them though, and looking through the space between Dad’s arm and hip, I saw them in the doorway.
“No. Fuckin’. Way.”, Diego said in disbelief. “I mean, I got that you weren’t playing around, but still… You gotta be shittin’ me!”.
I wished Daddy had stopped humping away between my little, spread legs. Had he stopped immediately, we could have at least tried to… I don’t know, maybe pretend like we had become tired and went to rest, together. But no, he still went to town in my boycunt, with even more fervor now that we had an audience.
“I… I, don’t even… You’re.. DOING IT – actually dooooing it!?”, George exclaimed. “T-this is so… crazy! I gotta see this! He moved closer to the bed and then I heard him ask “May I?”. After Daddy had answered “Yes”, the duvet was pulled away from our naked, interlocked bodies.
I didn’t merely feel well and truly exposed; what’s worse was the panic that set in about how the top-secret no-no that we were doing, couldn’t be glossed over. They must have had a clear view of his boner being inside of me. Daddy, Stepdad, Richard – in my head he was all of those things - didn’t seem to care though, he continued working to relieve his bottled-up pressure. This was not normal. OK, like, I knew we were doing an abnormal thing, but that was just for us to know. Between the two of us, it had become something normal. Now, all of a sudden, there were his friends watching us, watching me getting as much as ever before of my dad’s thing as it was being ceaselessly shoved into me like a piston. That instant, our secret was no longer merely ours any more.
A bit self-conscious about my skinny body and about the whole thing of being a daddy-fucker, I took the edge of the duvet and held it to my little chest, trying to hide at least some small part of me.
“Oh man! Look at that! H-How’s it feel?”, George asked in wonder.
“Best f-fuck ever, I’m t-tellin’ you”, Daddy blurted out in a moan.
Not that I could see much of Diego or George from where I was, underneath Daddy, but I turned my head the other way anyways. I couldn’t help being embarrassed. They could surely see bits of my little posterior taking daddydick, and if they hadn’t already, they’d soon see my wee erection and know that I was getting plenty of pleasure from the whole thing. They’d know that I was a gay kid.
“Well, don’t just stand there, perverts,” Daddy said with a laugh, “get comfortable”. In the periphery, I saw clothes getting thrown to the floor. Seemingly without any effort, and as I was still being speared by his rod, Daddy moved me to the middle of his and Mom’s King-Size bed.
One on each side, Diego and George got up on the edges of the bed. I could literally feel my face grow hot, and not just as a reaction to the passionate humping. As if doing the exact opposite of what I wanted, Daddy leaned upward; away from me. Instead of resting his weight on his hands, he sat fully on his knees and held my slim legs up in the air with his hands behind my knees. If he before had acted sort of as a shield against them seeing everything of me, that was gone now. Also, now I could see all of them; in the nude. That didn’t precisely make me less red faced.
Looking at one side, there was George – staring down at me with a leer and stroking his hard manhood which pointed outward and upward beneath his gut. It looked shorter than Daddy’s, but seemed to have more girth, especially around the base. I couldn’t resist looking the other way at Diego. His seemed on par with Dad’s, more or less. It, like the rest of him I suppose, had a brownish color, and it was peculiarly bent at the middle, to the side. While I kept looking at it as he moved his hand on the shaft, I thought that it was probably longer than Daddy’s – it was simply the bend on it that had made it seem equal to it at first.
“Oh, oh,” Dad was pointing to the walk-in closet, “get, get the camera – it’s in there”. George, being the closest, went and got the camera. Returning to the bed, he was holding it in one hand and was recording – he had Daddy confirm it by looking at the display of the device.
With my new caretaker sinking the pink in me, his friends watching so close by and pleasuring themselves while witnessing our forbidden union, and knowing it was all getting videotaped, my anxiety was ever so slowly being replaced by simply being excited again. I had never, ever, been that much the center of attention. Big, strong hands were touching me all over. My neck, my tiny pink nipples, my flat stomach – and gently they were feeling up my stiffer. As usual, trying not to sound like a little girl had been at the forefront of mind as I thought about how this would look on our dirty movie.
However, with all manner of compliments raining down over me, I quickly stopped trying to change my high-pitched moans of pleasure and lust as Daddy unendingly shoved his large member into me. His friends wanted me to touch each of them as well. At sort of awkward angles, I took turns grapping onto their sizeable shafts as best I could.
Dad was praising me for being their naked, little model and also started calling me his pretty pornstar – which by then, I think he knew that I liked. With three naked, horny men there, one big dick inside of me and one on each side, I couldn’t help but feel like more of a playboy than ever before. My presence – my revealed body - was attractive enough that it could activate whatever needed to be activated inside of them so that they’d get wood and their inside pressure could get a chance to be dealt with. I knew that men only got a stiffy if someone was pretty or alluring enough to turn them on. I felt like such a naughty little horndog.
Diego started moving even closer to me. As he and his pelvis neared my head, he put a hand on his curved phallus, pushed it downward towards my lips and asked me to “do it”. I didn’t know how I was supposed to manage giving him a suckjob while Daddy was feeding me plenty of his inches between my legs, but I was willing to try. I put a hand on his junk and craned my neck to get closer to it. As it happened, I got no further than sucking on his tip.
As Daddy with a roar started releasing his pressure in me, I had to brace myself against the mattress while I put both my small hands on his hairy, muscular chest to try and make him slow down. He thrust into me with no abandon; harder than I think he’d ever done before. I thought that if there was any kind of barrier for how much my bum could take, he had been about to go beyond it.
Dad’s unit contracted and expanded for some time inside of me. As he was catching his breath, his manmilk was being squeezed out along his still buried shaft. After he exited me, he also exited the bed, and then the room – saying he was going to get refreshments.
Slightly tired, but still in the mood for the sex, I was scooped up by Diego who was now on his back. With cum running down from my love hole and down the inner sides of both my slender, smooth legs, I was getting into place to mount Diego. We didn’t usually have the sex like that when in bed, me and Daddy, but we’d done so a few times at least. I grabbed a hold of his large, long and bent shaft – and so did Diego himself – and then we together guided it towards my cum-dripping anal entrance.
As I mounted his brownish and curvy pole, any thoughts about its peculiar angle disappeared as I started riding him. With plenty of Dad’s sploosh both in, and outside, my boygina, his large pleasure organ didn’t hurt that much. However, that was when he had let me be primarily in charge of the pace with which I was riding him. As he pulled me down close to him, hugging me tightly with his hairy arms around my narrow body and pressing my head against his furry chest, he started to thrust into me somewhat fierce. I had to start moaning louder to compensate as I labored to endure the increased hurting.
I could sense George hovering around us with the camera, capturing everything about me being on top of his amigo. He was urging his friend to “give it to him”, where I reckoned that I was the one being given the thing.
As a thousand and yet no real thoughts were racing through my head, my body felt like it wasn’t mine at all – instead it was a slave to the carnal activities it was being subjugated to, and my mind was merely along for the ride; a voiceless passenger on a not so quietly fucked young boy. It was all getting too much. Too much of everything.
I felt like such a little slut. I was a juvenile pornboy who helped not only my stepdad to get off, but now also his friend – and the second companion was right next to us with an erection, voicing approval and cheering us on.
While being pumped full of dong and in turn pricking Diego with my little pecker in his abdominal muscles, I was suddenly thrashing my head from side to side. Fireworks were going off in my head. My boyish needle was spasming. Diego wasn’t late to join me in Wonderland. With his hands on either side of my skinny waist, feeling like they could reach halfway around me, he was pushing me downward while shoving his groin upward for maximum penetration as his pressure exploded forth in my overcrowded interior.
His grunts of utter delight were as powerful as the twitching of his manhood submerged in my petite rump. As I rested, on top of the much older Latino man, I started hearing him say – more so to himself than to me it seemed – “What have I done, what have I done”.
As Diego’s softening, brownish torpedo was pulled out, I felt a flow of his semen follow suit. While I was still very much lightheaded, he lifted me off of him and placed me on the bed, between him and George.
With cum oozing out of my tender rear entrance, I got no rest, however. Obediently, I let George hoist me up and put me on all fours as he without wasting time mounted me from behind. On the bed beside us, I caught a quick glimpse of a sweaty Diego, who was in- and exhaling slowly, while muttering “Shouldn’t have done that” over and over, while he rubbed his closed eyes. Maybe he could sense that I had been looking at him, while now getting humped from behind, because he opened his eyes and gazed into mine for a brief moment. A more passionate assault of George’s thick shaft had me break eye contact as I digressed into a more animal state of loud whimpering and moaning.
In the borderline of my vision, Diego was rolling out of bed, mumbling “I… I can’t be here… I-I’m married”, absentmindedly while he was getting dressed. He was saying other stuff too, but I couldn’t really make it out above my own – and especially George’s - bellows of ecstasy.
“H-Hey man, c-camera?”, George wondered while holding the gadget out towards his friend.
When Diego refused to take it, talking about how he should head on home, George instead put the camera down on the mattress and grabbed ahold of me with his hands. The strength in them stood in stark contrast to the weakness of my undeveloped figure.
With all the jizz still on me and still in me – creating a welcome glide for the man now shagging my pert posterior – I wondered whether I had finally created semen of my own. I reached towards my little wiener, which was achingly erect again. Maybe it had never stopped standing at attention, I wasn’t quite sure. What had happened minutes ago seemed so distant, so irrelevant. Alas, it seemed dry. Oh well, I thought, slightly disappointed and hoping that someday soon I could get to experience what it would be like to get release like a real man.
Not that I could see it, standing on my hands and knees facing the head of the bed, but it seemed that when Diego had been about to leave the bedroom, Daddy had entered it again. “Had time to see the whole Ronda Rousey fight – she ended it almost immediately,” he said. “You two lovebirds been going at it this whole time?”.
“Hah! I… I wish,” George labored to answer. “Not been at it l-long… and I won’t l-last much longer… either”.
“I see. Where you off to in a hurry then?”, Daddy asked Diego. “You just gonna smash and dash?”
“I… I can’t believe I did that,” Diego stuttered. “Look, maybe I should head on home?”.
“Hey – hey, sit down. Relax,” Dad suggested with a hand on Diego’s shoulder. “I’ll get us some drinks”.
When he came back with three glasses and a bottle, it literally seemed like he had returned in a jiffy. “Libations for everyone,” he proclaimed enthusiastically. “Well, maybe only a sip or two for our little model”. Looking around, backwards, I noticed that outside of my vision, Diego had sat down in my mom’s reading chair with a glass of whiskey in hand.
Taking up the camera from the bed, Daddy uttered “Ah yeah, take him for a ride,” while moving around us. While the heavy-set man behind me was doing me doggystyle, I could feel his belly on my bony lower back. The large man boning me right then probably outweighed me six times or more. Even though I didn’t like his body as much as the others’, his organ felt just as good. Not that I could currently see it, seeing as I was on all fours, but I remembered that it hadn’t been as mesmerizing to look at. Evidently, that didn’t lessen the experience.
As I was in the by then all too familiar zone where pleasure triumphed over pain, I was rocking my tiny ass back against the fat man, who was continuing to sex me up in a steady rhythm.
Daddy called for George to reach around and wank my willy off while fucking me from behind. Not that I had the presence of mind to have many concerns at that point, but if there was one, then it was that I still felt very aware about the size of my pitched boyhood compared to their hard manhoods. All of them were several times my size physically - and that difference was also very much exhibited when it came to what was between our legs. They didn’t seem to care about that thought, and in the grand scheme of things it came second hand to the overpowering feelings of arousal and pleasure. I had learned about the word slut and what that meant, and that’s how I felt. Turns out, I liked feeling that way. I liked being randy and lustful, and I liked that these men liked that.
Therefore, when George started grasping onto my willy while he hammered his own, sizeable one in my little ass, I delighted at not only how that felt, but also at the thought of how that must look like on the film my dad was happily recording. The same must have applied for George, because shortly after he started fondling my tiny junk, he started hollering “OH, O-H! Ooooooo-H!”.
“Do it! Doo it!”, Daddy called out.
With a howl, my daddy’s friend pushed hard into my tiny ass while pulling me towards him. His sounds of pleasure were reciprocated by my sounds of pain from getting utterly speared on his thick piece. His shaft was pulsating and throbbing as he pollinated my innards. Even more wetness and slickness confirmed that I had just taken his seed. For a long while, he held onto me and used my laboring bum to milk his load.
In the afterglow of our sexual union’s apex, we were both collapsed, side-by-side, on the bed. I was spent. Both mentally and physically.
Scooping my light body up, Daddy started to carry me out of the room. I saw that Diego, sitting in the reading chair, had pulled down his pants and had a hand on his curvy penis which was hard again. Daddy brought me into my own bedroom and laid me down on my bed. As my naked, tired body hit the soft sheets, the absence of semen on them seemed nice. I brought a lot of that stuff with me though, I suppose.
While I relaxed on my stomach, Daddy was praising me at great length, and also apologized if it had been too intense. I hadn’t even been thinking about the fact that we were both naked. I did though, once he rolled on top of me, supporting himself on his arms, and started pushing his dick into me. As if by reflex, I started moving my sore derriere against it. Much like before, I didn’t even know if my willy had ever even become soft. In contrast to his own, and his friends’, earlier fucking of me, he was now being lovingly careful.
Diego must have entered the room some time after us, because I heard his voice: “May I... um watch?”.
“No more... m-moral dilemmas then?” Daddy asked.
“I... I, erm, I guess.. I mean..,” he paused his stuttering delivery and sighed. “No. None strong enough to.. stop me. I need – I need this.”
“Mhm,” Daddy half moaned and half said, while slowly sliding in and out of me.
“I didn’t quite know it, I had pictured it.. you know, more than a few times… but now.. damn, I need this,” Diego said as he neared the bed.
“Preaching. To. The. Choir”, Daddy managed to say through moans that I was effeminately matching.
“Got room for one more? I figure that with two sweet holes, there’s one available?”, George asked giddily. The stout man, naked with a standing pisser, was holding the tripod and the camera. He placed the stand, with the camera on top, next to my bed and sat down on the edge of it.
Richard stopped having the sex with me for a moment. He withdrew his pleasuring rod and turned me around so that I was on my back, able to look at them and them me. “Guys,” he said, “maybe I’m not the one you should be asking?”. As he finished the sentence, he was looking down at me, while gently stroking my erect boner. Beneath my miniature balls, his sightseeing manhood was once again getting inserted into my loved-up boy-cunt. Instinctively, I had pulled up and spread apart my skinny legs for him.
They were all looking at me, eagerly. What would they do if I said no, I wondered? Then again, I wasn’t actually going to. I nodded and said “OK” to all and no one in particular. I relished their unceasing and undivided interest in the skinny boy that I was, and the knowledge that I was behaving like an all too young whore. These men would get to use me as their small, undeveloped cock-vessel. In most other settings, I might have been considered a loser by some, but in that one, I felt like a rising star. Exulting in that feeling of belonging, I knew that I would continue helping them to relieve their pressure - and they were welcome to videotape it, if they wanted.
Nicely written. You include many aspects of the boy's thought process and develop him fully. What happened with the boy and his daddy over time I suppose will tell the story as to whether this was truly abuse, a boy entering the sex trade, or a gay soul learn to deal with his inner self. It could go either way as long run positive or negative. I hope in the long run daddy turned out to be positive and truly loving and caring.
Our stories would qualify for a new group called "SEXUAL ABUSE"
THE FACT THAT WE LEARNED TO ENDURE THE DISCOMFORT OF
HAVING SEMEN LEAKING FROM YOUR BUM AND LATER GETTING TO LOVE ANAL SEX, STILL IS SEXUAL ABUSE.
BearInMindReport
NomadadReport
relator242Report
THE FACT THAT WE LEARNED TO ENDURE THE DISCOMFORT OF
HAVING SEMEN LEAKING FROM YOUR BUM AND LATER GETTING TO LOVE ANAL SEX, STILL IS SEXUAL ABUSE.
relator242Report