His hole gaped slightly, still loose from the penetration of my
fingers. Its reddened rim was a reminder that this wasn't normal for
him, that this wasn't easy, but as he knelt on all fours in front of
me, slender ankles and feet sticking out over the edge of the bed, I
resolved to fuck him anyway. He had asked, had wanted to know what it
felt like, had insisted that he was old enough. The damn boy had even
done his research, and informed me that, at the age of thirteen (and
three days!) he was old enough to have sex if he lived in Spain. I
hadn't taken the time to halt our lovemaking to check up on his facts,
but he rarely lied and hated to be proven wrong, so I suspected he told
the truth.
My dick throbbed in front of me, standing upright of its own accord,
not needing the play of my fingers along its shaft to bring it to full
hardness. I hadn't felt the inner rock hardness I now felt since I was
a young boy, and that was because I was about to fulfil a fantasy I had
long thought would never be realised. God, how I dreamed of fucking a
boy, of feeling the tight ring of muscle retreating along the length of
my shaft, of feeling the vice-like grip of his innards on my dick. I'd
fucked a virgin girl once, and had some idea of what was coming, but
this time it was to be the real deal.
He was well lubed from all the KY I had pushed into his little hole.
Even as I watched, a twitch of his colon sent a glob of it dripping
down his perineum, across the wrinkled, hairless skin of his sack and
off into the bedclothes with a silent splat. It was tinged brown, and
for a moment I felt a little disgust for what I was about to do. Lust,
though, is a foil for all other emotions, and I needed so badly to be
in him that nothing would truly prevent me from attaining my goal.
I walked up to the bed, smearing the last of the lubricant from my
fingers onto the shaft of my dick, and with my left hand took hold of
my manhood. My right I placed on his hip to steady him, as with my
guiding hand I led my now-dripping tool to the entrance to his bowels.
He jolted slightly as the tip of the pucker of my foreskin touched the
wrinkled skin of his hole, but forced himself to relax back into me,
arching his back until the closing hole grew a little wider.
I pressed forward, lending my left hand to the effort of holding his
hips in place, the tip of my dick seated so firmly in his hole that
there was no need for its support. The tight ring of muscle at the
entrance to him held onto my foreskin, peeling it back over my head as
the blunt helmet pushed through into the boy's insides. When there was
no more skin to pull back I paused, feeling the head and a fraction of
the shaft embedded in the warmth of him. I heard him breathing heavily,
panting almost, as if in agony, but there was no promised cry to halt
if it became too much.
I felt around his hips and into his smooth crotch for his dick, finding
it soft, indeed shrivelled, the shaft retracted within him, his
foreskin bunched over a shrunked head. No amount of working by my hand
could reinvigorate it, and his balls were drawn tightly up in their
sack as if in fear. He would be gaining little pleasure from our union,
I knew, but he had asked, insisted almost, and I am only a weak
boylover, not a superhuman.
Contented to find my own pleasure and to take the coupling as his gift
to me, I pushed froward again. Three inches of my rather slender dick
were within him when I felt I could go no further. Indeed, there seemed
little need, as what portion of me was within him was subject to such
intense heat and pressure that I felt I would be overcome were any more
of my shaft to enter him. I rocked my hips experiementally, shocked at
the sight of his pucker stretched back out of him on the wihdrawal, and
pushed deep inside the cleft of his arse on the forward stroke.
This gentle fucking I kept up until something wondrous happened. With a
deep sigh, I felt the muscles in his bowels give way fully, and sudenly
he was loose. I surged forward, astonished to find myself buried to the
fullest extent within him. I pulled back and thurst again, feeling an
overwhleming sense of power as I plowed into him. This was it. This was
the moment of my possession of him. I fucked him as I would fuck a
girl, hard thrusts, my hips slapping loudly against his arse as I
penetrated him to the maximum of my ability.
I felt my orgasm building rapidly, but before it had a chance to surge
over me I felt a wetness splashing against the inside of my thighs. I
looked down, not bothering to slow the pace of my fucking, and saw
little golden droplets being flung this way and that beneath us both.
With a start, I realised that it was his piss, foced from his wildly
bouncing dick by the intruder which raided his abdomen, pressing
against his organs. I felt a pang of guilt, but it was washed from me
instantly by the overwhelming, unstoppable sensations of my building
climax.
I pounded him as hard as I could as pleasure overtook me. Semen
streamed from the tip of my manhood into the heat of his bowels, and
yet I continued to thrust until it was forced out around my shaft,
flung this way and that to mingle with the droplets of his urine which
were already soaking into the sheets. With my last surging ejaculation
I pushed so hard into him that we collapsed fromward onto the bed, my
weight crushing him, my hips bending and twisting to force as much of
myself into him as I could.
He lay silently, half beneath me, only nodding when I asked him if he
was ok. I smothered those parts of his face that I could reach with
kisses, telling him how amazing he was, how much I loved him, what a
great fuck he had been.
He buried his face in the crook of his arm and said nothing. I had ruined him, and now I possessed him.