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Archive name: turner.txt (b/toddler, inc, oral, necro)
Authors name: Todd Sayre (dream_writer_2001@yahoo.com)
Story title : Turner's Fifteen Minutes
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Turner's Fifteen Minutes (b/toddler, inc, oral, necro)
by Todd Sayre (dream_writer_2001@yahoo.com)
***
Little pervert Turner likes sex, any kind of sex. He'll
fuck anything with a body, animate or inanimate.
***
I never thought it would ever happen to me, but it did.
Mom hooked up with her local pussy-of-the-month-club
(That's what I secretly called the local "Woman's
Club.") and they decided to have a cook-off.
I imagined that some of those trophy wives would concoct
some form of botulism that would turn everyone green.
You see, my mom and dad are a part of the yuppie class
where Mercedes, Lexus, BMW autos decorate their front
lawns and degrees from the elite Harvard, Yale and
Princeton class hug the walls of every home. If you
weren't part of that club-scene you weren't human.
Anyway, that's beside the point. What is to the point?
The chance to be alone with my baby brother Jason.
Mom had spent the better part of her day shopping for
the cook-off buying all sorts of crap that would keep
her busy-giving me time to have a little fun.
"You'll have to watch the baby," she told me. "If I
don't get this dish prepared the girls will just laugh
at me!"
Who gave a rat's ass? Mom is a brown-noser. She'll do
anything to gain favor of people that would stab her in
the back at first chance. But, like a fool, she follows
close behind.
My dad. What can I say about him? The prick is never
home. He lives his life in the courts, therefore, as
always, law is pure bullshit, so I won't bother you with
his story.
As for me, I'm Turner Boyd, son of Ruth and Harold Boyd.
I'm thirteen-years-old with a dick that lusts after
release and my lusts seems to grow more fierce by the
day and my only way to quell my unhealthy urges is to
sit on the john and yank my brains out. No matter how
bad things may get, whether I'm in school or at home,
once my dangling, hairless partner (for life) awakens,
it needs a massage.
It's fun to dream up scenarios where I get to do
anything I want: rape, beat and perhaps even murder the
victims in my mind; but always returning from the scene
of the crime with no real victims and no manhunts for
predators.
But now that mom was up to her eyeballs in all kinds of
food ingredients, I'd have my chance with my baby
brother... and I don't mean in my mind's eye.
Jason is about to turn one in a week, so his inability
to squeal on me makes him perfect, and what's more,
he'll never remember the good time he's gonna give me --
although it may only last just a few minutes. I figured
it was better to do my little brother than some small
boy or girl out on the streets. I'd been riding around
on my bicycle looking at all the helpless little kids in
my neighborhood and wondering what it would be like to
take one of them. But I always stopped myself at the
last minute.
In order to make her dish (God only know what it'll be),
mom needed black olives and when she went on her
shopping trip, she forgot them. "I'll be back in a short
bit," she had said.
Well, that should be plenty of time to have a little fun
with my baby brother, but not enough time to really let
myself go. I know, I know. You're probably thinking to
yourself, what the hell can you do in ten to fifteen
minutes without getting caught? I could try butt-fucking
Jason, but that would leave evidence of sperm and a
swollen rectum... or I could cock-feed him and make him
drink several squirts of my jizz. I'm sure Jason could
handle my spunk in his belly with no ill effect.
As mom backed her Lincoln sedan out of the drive, I
fingered my bulging crotch. Even though my dick is uncut
and small, it should be just perfect for Jason. The
extra foreskin on it would make for a tantalizing treat
in a baby's mouth. Babies love to suck anything that'll
fit between their lips and I think my brother just might
enjoy me inside him.
Quite frankly, I would enjoy the fact that he would have
some of my come in his belly. Once mom got home, she may
just smile at her baby son who has just swallowed her
eldest son's seed.
Once the Lincoln was out of sight I wasted no time.
Baby Jason lay quietly on the family room floor,
squirming and cooing happily. I pulled my shirt off and
unbuckled my belt, sliding my pants down to my knees,
letting my stiff penis jut out. My cock already knew
what I was going to do for it, so my little one-eyed
fellow was eagerly awaiting, throbbing excitedly to my
heartbeat.
I leaned over my brother, positioning my groin over his
head, then letting my cockhead touch the soft slippery
lips of a willing baby. The moment my foreskin made
contact with Jason's mouth, I shuddered in pleasant
surprise.
Jason took me into his small mouth and began sucking on
me like a bottle, but he only had an eighth of an inch
between his lips; that is until I started to apply a
little pressure. I inserted as much of myself as I
could-short of gagging or choking the little shit.
That little mouth of his tightened on me, and I could
feel a gentle, but soothing sucking coming from him. I
began to thrust ever so slightly, allowing my flesh to
just slip in and out fractionally until my lust grew.
Jason seemed to be a great sport. He never fussed about
having his big brother in his mouth, but once the
feeling of perverted hunger began to overwhelm me I
entered an altered stated where every sound or vision
ceased, only the sensations between my legs mattered.
Jason allowed the gentle rocking, but after a minute or
two of thrusting my dick down Jason's throat, I began to
feel the persistent need to rock in and out more
aggressively. And the more aggressive I became, the more
uncooperative Jason grew. I'm only glad the little
bastard didn't have teeth, otherwise I'd be a tad more
Jewish today.
Once I got a rhythm going, I didn't stop. I fucked
Jason's little mouth with such a sublime enthusiasm that
even Jason's cry failed to reach my ears. I was
breathing hard, gasping and moaning-my asscheeks
clenching uncontrollably -- toes flexing and beads of
sweat glistening in the diffuse sunlight entering from
the window. I was in heaven with every thrust.
I vaguely noticed that the force of my ramming hips was
slowly pushing the baby forward, causing me to lose
contact with Jason at times. Had I placed the little
turd's head against the base of the couch or some other
piece of furniture, Jason was apt to be bruised and the
top of his skull redefined by my persistence.
Every time he shifted forward, I followed. I simply kept
up with him as I continuously filled his mouth (which
was now emitting an angry shriek). The feeling was
glorious. My little brother had no choice but to
pleasure my loins. It was fun. It felt so right and so
good.
Jason cried as if I had just poured sulfuric acid over
his face or something, but despite his displeasure, I
continued fucking him until that tiny excess of cock-
flesh started to gag him, making him spew digested milk.
I would stop for a few seconds, cleaning the mess with
my t-shirt, then entering him once more.
I rammed my cock forward once more without caring,
pushing as deep as I dared for several minutes,
thrusting away in a crazed ecstasy, taking in the belly-
shuddering reverberation that flowed through me, while
reminders of my not-so-distant-past came to mind.
*
I bet you're wondering where I got this perverted little
game from. To be honest, it didn't get etched upon my
brain by my dad the lawyer or some horny uncle seeking
some Saturday night thrills; instead it was my best
friend Lucas.
Lucas, a fairly decent student at Jefferson Jr. High,
just couldn't settle the fire that was blazing in his
pants. He was always talking to the guys about pussy or
some ripe asshole belonging to some girl that he could
poke, but I learned differently on one visit to his
home.
By the way... did I mention that Lucas's father is a
mortician and that their house is above the mortuary?
No?
Silly me. I guess I'm so wrapped up in my own pumping
perversion that I failed to mention Lucas to you all.
Franklin Abbot (Lucas's dad) always had business once
someone died. And it turned out that once his mom and
dad and the little sister went to bed, Lucas would creep
down the stairs into the embalming room where he would
have some fun.
On a late afternoon in the fall of that year, Lucas
showed me what he enjoyed.
I joined him in the basement of The Abbot Brother's
Mortuary while everyone was away. His dad-that day I
believe-was most likely out scraping up some poor
bastard off Highway 74 just off the turnpike, or out
picking up a stiff at the county hospital.
I was totally scared when Lucas took me down the stairs
and into the embalming room. There, under a white sheet,
lay the body of a young girl no older than maybe five.
Lucas showed me the file of her death: Drowning. The old
rock quarry had claimed her-and she wasn't the first.
She had been a cute blonde with blue lifeless eyes and a
thinly form. Lucas pulled the sheet off of her and he
spread her legs wide and said, "Watch this."
Although grotesque... and sort of enticing, I watched
Lucas climb up on the stainless steel table. He splayed
her legs even wider exposing that dead girl cunt. It was
a thin line of pink paleness.
Lucas unzipped his pants-pulled down his boxers and
exposed the stiffest cock I'd seen to date. I thought at
one time that his dick would burst from the girth of his
erection, but instead Lucas turned to me-grinning an
evil grin-then turned to face that dead moppet on the
slab and stuffed his cock into her and fucked her so
hard that I was certain she would sit up and scream, but
she didn't.
He pounded her lifeless body with impunity until I could
hear his labor making the cold steal table creak with
every push of his body. Goddamn... if I were some
moralist, I would have picked up the phone and dialed
911, but I am no moralist. Lucas taught me that sex,
with anyone is fun, especially if they're dead. Lucas
raped that dead girl and he didn't stop until he blew
his load in her.
After he was done, he offered me a chance to take the
same ride, but instead, being a pussy about exposing my
dick size for Lucas to make fun of, I passed on the
offer. But I never forgot that incident.
There were times when I spent the night at Lucas's
house, waiting for THE RENT to fall asleep, so we could
sneak down to the dead.
Lucas and I made our way downstairs, passing two
separate chapels on the way toward the basement.
This time the corpse was a twenty-two-year-old male that
had been killed riding a motorcycle. He'd broken his
neck, which had been repaired with unpainted mortician's
wax to hold everything at the right attitude.
Since there had been no pussy to fuck, Lucas made use of
the late Darryl Morgan's mouth, which had not been wired
shut or cemented. He fucked that man stuffing his cock
relentlessly in and out of his throat until he blew his
wad and the sperm drained freely down the dead man's
throat; then Lucas would work up another erection and
repeat the adventure.
Once my friend, a goodly boy of the school of
necrophilia, finished squirting, he offered me a chance
once more. Rather than stand by and watch, I decided to
take a chance at being heckled. Why not? What would
Lucas do? Run around school telling everyone that my
cock is small and I have no hair around my nuts? Fuck
no. I don't think he would. After all, everyone in
school would truly believe me if I told how Lucas Abbot
liked to fuck dead bodies in his father's embalming
room. I could spell out the entire ordeal if push came
to shove, but it didn't.
I boldly climbed onto that cold table and took my
position over the late Darryl Morgan and allowed my cock
to slide between his cold lips.
I jerked in terror when those lips and teeth took hold
of me that I nearly fell off that body and table; nearly
shitting my pants in the process. Lucas had pressed the
dead man's jaws together to give me the feel of a real
blowjob. After recovering from the scare and continued
on, I must say that it was rather convincing having
Lucas pushing those lips together.
I stuffed that corpse's mouth all the way, riding him in
uncertain jerks, but once my lust grew, I was oblivious
of Lucas and I was now confident that he or the late Mr.
Morgan would not give me grief over my size. I began
thrusting with confident fervor, focusing on the
darkened embalming room wall ahead of me, and forgetting
all about my best friend beside me, who was making Mr.
Morgan's mouth wrap around my flesh.
It was weird as hell, being on top of a dead man,
shoving my cock into his mouth, having his cold, dead
lips sliding around my shaft. I don't know how long I
was thrusting into that body, but the feeling of
pleasure killed the fear that I had, and not even Lucas
could pry my concentration from the glory I was
experiencing.
I pumped fast and ruthless, never caring once at my
reckless speed. I banged away: thrusting, hammering,
pounding until I discovered that I was capable of
actually producing an intermittent streams of sperm. I
could feel the pearly strings hitting the congealing
pool that was already backing up in Morgan's throat. It
was like pissing in his mouth. I went full force,
thrusting and fucking non-stop until Lucas had to pull
me off that corpse.
When I finally was forced to stop, I realized that
Darryl Morgan's mouth was flooded and trickles of semen
leaked from the corners. I had enjoyed it so much that I
fucked that corpse without noticing an hour had gone by
and that my friend had watched me while he masturbated.
To this day, I still can't believe that I enjoyed sex
with the dead. Since then, I made frequent stops at the
Abbot house and sometimes I'd score, and other times I
went home unsatisfied; only to jerk-off to the fantasy.
Nevertheless, Lucas taught me that no matter who or
what, fucking was priceless. Whether it was your family
dog or a little brother or sister: all provided great
satisfaction.
Since those days of sex with the dead, I've had dreams
(both day and night) of getting laid by a body or a real
person, and now that mom had to run to the market, Jason
was my first, live source.
*
I rammed much the way I had fucked the dead bodies of
the past, thrusting without care into my little
brother's mouth, shoving my organ deep, stifling his
cries until the orgasmic urge continued to assault me,
but each time I nearly came, I withdrew-making sure that
I would save my climax for the grand finale.
I pumped Jason's face, breathless with each barrage of
my hips, determined to unleash the hell from my balls
and just as I could hear the sound of mom's Lincoln
pulling back into the driveway, my cock began to pulse;
the tingling of electricity surging through my dick so
fierce that when the sperm came flowing into Jason's
mouth, the front door opened. It would have been worth
getting caught just to feel warm lips (for a change)
around my dick, really sucking me off.
Mom walked into the house carrying a bag of groceries.
She didn't bother to inquire about us, so I allowed my
cock to deliver the creamy-white fluid into my baby
brother while mom laid the bag on the kitchen counter,
and I continued on.
The strings of life spurted out like string cheese,
coating Jason's tongue and throat. It was fantastic.
Every squirt that shot into him was shoved down into his
throat, but as the last of my orgasm faded, I pulled
myself out of Jason and I grabbed my clothes.
Jason made a furious clamor when he managed to work the
gooey come down; then again, Jason always bawled for the
tiniest of reasons. I had enough time to get dressed and
to pick the little spawn up-making it look like I had
been trying to quiet the little bastard down.
It was close.
Just as I picked him up, mom walked in, "Is everything
alright?"
"It sure is." I said. "I guess he didn't like the milk
he got."
"Really?" She said. She picked up Jason's plastic
bottle, unscrewed the top, and then smelled it. "Smells
alright to me. Maybe he's just full."
"Maybe he needs to be burped," I said. If only mom knew
that the baby had just had a meal of brotherly DNA,
she'd freak.
Oh well. Mom is a fucking egghead. She never had a clue.
I guess that's in my best interests. Hopefully, in the
coming days, mom and dad will trust me to watch Jason
for longer spells, allowing me to have better pleasures;
and I'm quite sure Jason will get used to the flavor of
my seed.
Maybe next time I'll piss down his throat and take a
shit on his face. That would be interesting. Of course,
I'd have to wipe the shit from that cute face, but the
mere thought of what I could do would later send me to
the bathroom where I would unload more sperm on the cool
tile floor.
It makes me think back to an old quote where Andy Warhol
said, "Everyone has fifteen minutes."
Today, I had mine, and as of this hour, in mom's arms,
Jason is being patted on the back, burping the sperm
that he swallowed. I'm glad it was mine. I can hardly
wait for the next time I have Jason, and I hope that
it's soon.
For now, I'll have to visit Lucas Abbot's home until my
babysitting services are required, but until then, I'll
be thinking hard about my next fifteen minutes.
The End
Comments to: dream_writer_2001@yahoo.com
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not "real life." Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
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