Light invaded through a gap between the curtains, spearing across
his naked form as it lay spread-eagled where it had fallen the night
before. Exhaustion had overcome him and he had tumbled sideways,
slipping instantaneously into a deep slumber from which he had not
roused in the hours since. My eyes scanned up and down the length of
his form, appreciating the lithe shapes of his limbs, the well toned
muscles at the centre of his torso, his limp needle which hung inert
across his groin.
I sat apart, just watching him. I'd slept just as well, but woken
earlier than he. Yesterday's heat had lasted us through the night, and
today's was quickly adding to it, and so I, too, remained unclothed. In
my hand was a freezing cold lime cordial, neat, with a shot of vodka.
Drinking at sunrise wasn't a habit, but exceptional circumstances had
led me to reassess what was normal, and what was not.
He was certainly not normal. He was a wraith, a spirit. He could not
possibly exist. Absolutely not, not in my camper van, not here in the
middle of the Australian Gold Coast. I must be trapped in the most
wonderful of hallucinations. Of course a small part of me wanted to
believe, at the moment I had taken possession of the van, that
something of this kind might occur. Truthfully, though, I could not
have imagined this outcome to be a possibility.
He stirred in his sleep, and I watched in awe as the tube twitched and
swelled. He dreamed, of what I could not tell. Whatever it may have
been, it affected his body in an enjoyably visible way. The needle
stood tall now, its tip caught in the shaft of sunlight which lit up
his midriff, making it seem very much like a fleshy candle, its wick
aflame. At its base a churning sack of skin held maturing testes,
capable of only the slightest emissions.
His head rolled from side to side as he dreamt, and a hand drifted down
to touch himself, tugging urgently at the spike at his centre. A wicked
thought occurred to me, and carefully depositing my drink I moved to
the bed, kneeling gently at his feet. Boldness in such activity had not
before been a trait of mine, and yet without hesitation and knowing
that I would not be rebuked, I pulled free his hand and lowered my
mouth in its place.
He gasped now, clearly awake and aware. As I had thought, no effort was
made to halt my ministrations. His hips writhed beneath me as I
lavished attention on the most sensitive part of his astonishing body.
He pulled away and then just as urgently shoved himself back toward me,
forcing his way to the back of my mouth. Agonised expressions distorted
his features as the pleasure grew painful, and with a load gasp and a
tortured arching of his spine he reached his peak, peppering the warm
tunnel of my mouth with a couple of salty sweet pellets of juvenile
emission.
Eyes still closed, he smiled and rolled onto his side, lifting a leg
and presenting his still glistening opening for my pleasure. As he
engulfed me in his warmth with a gentle grunt of acceptance I again
wondered at his capacity for making love.
---
Naked now, he sat astride my thighs, the spike of his excitement
dwarfed by the rod of my own, against which it stroked with the flexing
of his hips as we kissed. I sat on the edge of the bed while he knelt
facing me, the globes of his behind a perfect fit for my roving hands,
his own gripping the back of my t-shirt as he crushed himself into me.
Three hours I had known him. In that time I had already spattered his
thin chest with my ejaculate, and he had reached his peak, surprising
me with a mouthful of sweet nectar from his undeveloped boyhood. Now,
back in my home from home we made frantic love, his small frame
delightfully mobile above my own, and his hot, wet mouth infinitely
more erotic than any woman I had ever kissed.
Without the slightest encouragement he raised himself up and seated
himself on the sopping wet tip of my manhood, slick with the excitement
he had caused. My mind raced with the realisation of what was
happening, and as his hips hunched the tight ring of muscle between
those soft cheeks peeled back the skin at my tip, which buried itself
in the hot, moist sheath of his colon.
He buried his face in my shoulder, biting the flesh there as behind him
I invaded his body. His hands grabbed my own and placed them on his
hips, pressing down, making it quite clear what I was to do. I fell
backwards, ending up with the slight weight of him atop me, and moved
my hands back to his hips, pushing down as with hunching hips I forced
my way into his body, until there was no more to give.
“Wait…” he whispered in my ear. He lay atop me, and I could feel
wetness on my shoulder. His body jolted with an occasional sob. Minutes
passed with my hands rubbing up and down his back, soothing him.
“Ok, do me…” was his next, all but silent command. I held him close as,
with as much gentleness as I could muster, I began to slide my way in
and out of him.
“Do it hard!”
I complied, rolling him over and pushing him properly onto the bed. I
had slipped out of him, and moved forward on my knees. Without command
he raised his legs and grabbed the backs of his knees, his submission
to me complete. As once again I breached the ring of muscle he grimaced
and gasped in pain, but he urged me forward with heels digging into the
backs of my thighs.
Hard he had demanded, and hard he got. I pistoned into him like a
jackhammer, the ring of his anus ruined by the intrusion, loose and
pliable. His little worm, shrunken by the effects of our lovemaking,
bounced around on his lower stomach. Never did I imagine that he could
take such pleasure from our lovemaking, but somewhere deep inside him
my thrusts were hitting the right spot. A red blush spread from his
loins and across his chest to his neck, and his mouth hung open as he
panted. Then, so suddenly that it took me by surprise, he reached the
ultimate pleasure, his face contorting into an agonised rictus. Drops
of semen dribbled from the end of his flaccid member as it bounced
around, being flung here and there across his hardening tummy. Behind
him, I was gripped in the most velvet of vices, which sent me over the
edge with a flurry of massive volleys deep into his gut.
I pulled free with a flood of ejaculate, and rolled off to the side.
Exhausted, he already slept where he lay, the obscene act we had just
performed not diminishing his youthful beauty one jot.
---
He practically dragged me into the disabled stall, my dick still poking
through the fly of my jeans. I turned to lock the door behind us, and
as I turned back to him hands grasped my fly, tearing open the buttons
and pulling free my rapidly inflating manhood. Already his shirt lay in
a crumpled heap on the floor, and his boardshorts were down below his
bare knees.
I didn’t know he was only eleven, but I wouldn’t have believed it if
I’d known - he barely looked that old. The sight of his juvenile face
smiling up at me as his pointy little tongue snaked out to taste me
sent a judder through my body, forcing clear pearl out through the
pucker of my foreskin and onto the tip of his tongue.
He was experienced enough to know when I was nearing the edge, and
pulled free, wanking me off with a practised style. I splattered his
chest with thick globs of emission moments later. He looked down at the
mess I’d made, and then up at me with a massive grin on his face. I
smiled down at him and reached for some toilet paper to wipe him clean.
---
My heart skipped a beat when I spotted him at the urinal. There were
only two, and so I would be forced to stand next to him, though in
truth I would have done so anyway. I pulled myself free of the fly of
my jeans and tried desperately to force myself to urinate. Only then
did I glance across out of the corner of my eye.
Jackpot. He was about ten I reckoned, and had the elastic waistband of
his white and red boardshorts hooked beneath a tight little scrotum,
atop which sat a delightful, pale, hairless couple of inches of uncut
boyhood, from which emerged no urine at all.
Damn, must have been at the end. I expected him to quickly put it away
and leave, but he did nothing of the kind. He just left it hanging
there, his shirt held out of the way with a free hand. He was
displaying it for me to see.
The offer of a good look at his youthful package was not something I
wished to pass up, and I ogled it openly, leaving my own open in plain
sight. I saw him checking mine out, and his free hand went to the tip
of his beautiful tube, pulling and pinching his foreskin until with a
lurch the two inches became three, then a throbbing hard three and a
half.
When our eyes met, I realised that I was about to have the most
amazing experience of my life to that point. Quite how amazing I was
yet to discover.