Chapter 20
Birthday and Christmas

December has always been a happy month to me. When I was real young, the two biggest events of the year would take place in December. When I got a little older, about age ten, New Years' Eve joined the two other events. The first to take place is my birthday, December 16th. Then Christmas, which we here in Denmark celebrate on the 24th, a nice day spent with family, big Christmas dinner where you eat until you almost get sick. After dinner, a little exercise by walking/dancing while singing around the tree.

I know it probably sounds really strange to anyone who doesn't do that. But it is tradition here and it is really nice. The tree is lit by small candles or electric lights imitating candles. That's the only light in the room. If you'd be looking through a window into the living room of a family on Christmas Eve, you'd see nothing but happiness and coziness. Well, at least until the kids would start begging for getting to the part of opening their presents lying so temptingly under the lowest branches of the tree.

And then there's New Years' Eve. After I turned ten it got to be exciting as I'd run around long into the night with Casey each of us carrying a huge bag of fireworks. I'm not about to tell you all the mischief and downright vandalism we've done, just know we weren't exactly little angels. Now a days I'd rather just stay inside or, if it isn't raining or snowing, get out in my yard and watch the fireworks other people have spent their hard-earned cash buying.

I really got my share of loud explosions, enough to satisfy whatever part of me that enjoyed those, in the National Guard. I was one of my company's demolitions experts. When you set off 200 or maybe even 500 grams of C-4, you can both hear and feel it. It beats any kind of legal fireworks any day. Well, that's just my opinion of course.

When Andy was old enough to enjoy the sky being lit up in wondrous patterns of various colors and not too scared of the loud noises, I'd wake him up and bring him out with me. Of course only if it was my turn to have him. Michelle usually took him to be with her parents when she had him. If I didn't have Andy, I'd go and have dinner with my parents and then afterwards go on the hunt for a guy to share my bed for the rest of the night.

The year when Andy was five, I turned 32. Not really a reason for a big celebration, but after Michelle gave me enough crap about not wanting to throw a party, I caved in. I invited her and the Haskins family over. The Haskins being John's parents and his sister. And John himself obviously. Andy was mine for the week, so he was there as well. It was just for rolls, hot cocoa, coffee, and of course a birthday cake. The cake was more for the childrens' sake than for mine.

***

That day, whenever we weren't eating, the boys would either be sitting in front of the TV or playing in Andy's room with the door open, so I knew they weren't doing naughty stuff to each other. I had made sure both boys knew there was not to be any hanky-panky that day. It would have been too risky with John's family and Michelle in the house. Jane sat with us adults, at first she tried to act like quite a little lady, but soon got busy drawing instead. It was just too hard to keep the conversation interesting to an eight years old girl.

John had turned seven two months prior to my own birthday, but it was only some kids from the nursery school, amongst them Andy, who had been invited to his birthday party. I wasn't heartbroken for not being invited, but since I had Andy and was inviting John's parents to my house, it only made sense to have them bring their kids. It made it more fun and the added bonus was I got more presents. As if that really mattered so much to me at the age of 32.

But, I did get quite a few gifts, including one from each of the kids who had made it themselves. This makes me sound like an old granny, but it touched me deeply that they'd spend time crafting something for me. I didn't care if their parents had made them do it or if the kids thought it would prompt me to buy them something bigger or better for Christmas. It still meant a lot to me. The gift I was most impressed by was from John.

It was an ashtray made from clay. Yes, I know, it's a fairly common thing for a kid to make for someone who smokes cigarettes. A no-brainer really. Yet, this was a little more advanced than other ashtrays made from clay. John had pressed his hand into the bottom of the ashtray and then painted the imprint, using a different color for each of his fingers. Then glazed the ashtray with clear glazing. Right in the middle of his hand imprint, he had written his name and below it he had written mine.

I hope I don't have to explain that I never used this particular ashtray. It sat on a small table for a lot of years, until I finally decided to put it in a box along with a lot of other unused items. Another thing I got from John was a homemade happy birthday card. He had written "I love you" with crayons on the front and made a drawing inside the card of Andy, me and him. As I saw this, I looked up at Cheryl, giving her a look which I hoped said "what the heck is this?"

She just ever so slightly shook her head. Not the right time, nor the right place for that conversation. So I pushed the thought aside and hugged John while I thanked him for his gift.

As the party broke up, John pleaded with his mom to spend the night at my house. His mom looked at me and when I nodded, she said it was okay. After everyone but I and the two boys had left, I started cleaning up. Well, I moved some of the stuff from the dining table to the kitchen at least. Hey, it was my birthday, like hell I was going to spend a lot of time cleaning up. John helped me by carrying mugs and plates from the table. Andy had long since sat himself on the sofa watching TV.

We joined Andy in the living room. John plopped down next to him on the sofa and I sat in my lazy chair. I hit play on the remote to the VCR and the movie the boys had chosen to see started. It was already close to the boys' bedtime, but I figured since it was only my birthday once a year, it wouldn't hurt the boys to stay up for longer.

About half an hour into the movie, John started fidgeting. The boy was clearly not very comfortable. My eyes darted back and forth from the TV to John. The movie was quite boring to me and it was more interesting to watch John.

He had crossed his feet, and occasionally would tense his entire body straightening it out like a board. He'd hold that pose for a moment and then relax. The second time he did it I saw his face. His eyes were following the action on the TV, but every other part of his body was busy doing something else. It was only then I knew what he was doing.

"Buddy, do you need to go potty?" I asked John, loud enough to get through the blaring sounds from the children's movie running on the TV.

"Nuh-uh," John almost breathed out, fully concentrating on the movie.

Then only 10 seconds later he'd tense up his body again. Well, if the boy couldn't read his own body signals, I sure could. I hit pause on the remote and instantly the picture froze. Well, if you've ever had a VCR then you know when you pause it, it'll just show a scrolling picture frame.

"DADDY!" Andy immediately cried out in frustration.

"Sorry Tiger," I said, "John needs to go potty. We'll watch the rest of movie when he's finished."

"Aw, that'll take forever."

"John, off you go. Now, before you have an accident."

I think John finally realized that he did have to go. He took off running for the bathroom. While John was gone, Andy literally fought me for the remote control, he wanted to get the movie started again, with or without John present. Each time he got close to me, I had him scurrying away in fits of laughter. My tickling fingers kept him at bay. John returned six minutes later, cheeks slightly reddened. He smiled shyly at me, before getting onto the sofa again.

I hit play on the remote and the living room was again filled by the noise from the movie. After about twenty minutes I saw both boys had fallen asleep. I lowered the sound on the TV, halfways expected to hear Andy's protests. He was zonked out though. I picked up his little slack body, his arms and legs hung loosely from his body as I carried him into the bathroom. If you've ever tried undressing a sleeping child, or even worse, getting one dressed, then you know just how tricky it is.

Not to mention getting a sleeping child into a diaper. Andy's body was just flopping this way and that, not cooperating at all. It took a lot longer than it usually did when Andy was awake and helping me, but I finally had him all wrapped up for the night. After I got him tucked into his bed, it was time to go fetch John.

John was out cold as I caressed his small body. At first it was just a little careful touching, then a little prodding at his body to see if he would wake up. When he didn't even flinch when I moved his body around on the sofa, I picked him up and went to my bedroom. I'd been wanting to play with Andy's little friend for a long while. To be honest, I'd been lusting for little boys for as long I can remember. That it was to be John I finally crossed the point of no return with, was purely a matter of easy access.

I undressed John, being careful not to disturb his sleep, but still quickly. When he lay naked on his back in my bed, I leaned over him and kissed him on his little pouty lips, lingered there for a while. His deep slow exhales of air warmed my cheek and I felt the cooler air pass over it when he breathed in through his nose.

I imagined John was awake and responding to my kisses. How he'd open his little mouth and let my tongue into his moist little cave with those sharp milky white teeth of his. How he'd moan from pleasure as his little tongue dueled with my bigger one. He'd wrap his little arms around my neck and kiss me fiercely. He'd let his lust take over and demand me to pleasure him, to make his body ripple in the throes of orgasm. Repeatedly, until he'd sink back smiling tiredly and gratefully at me.

***

In the real world, John didn't do any of this. He just lay there, like a warm, breathing doll. Motionless. Probably dreaming little boys' dreams. I moved down the short distance from his head to his midsection. I saw his little navel slightly embedded in his stomach. I placed my lips around it, opened my mouth just enough to allow my tongue to slip out and lick at the inner part of his cute little bellybutton. I could make out the little harder nub where his umbilical cord once had been tied into a knot.

I made love to this little nub, licked at it while I kept up a slight vacuum in my mouth. Since his little penis was only a very short distance away, I moved further south on his body and left his navel slicked up with my spittle. The little boy dicky was flaccid, in its very relaxed state it was a bit longer than usual. The scar from the circumcision marked the difference of the skin on his dick like it was a border fence. On his short shaft, the skin was very pale pink, almost white, and had blue veins crisscrossing like the branches of a tree.

About half a centimeter before his dick tapered into a beautiful little glans, the skin changed into the finer, more delicate skin that had so briefly been protected by his foreskin. It wasn't as coarse as the skin on the shaft, but felt less delicate than the skin on my own dick and Andy's. I didn't dislike the way it looked or felt, it was just fascinating to me. I traced the scar with a fingertip all around to the frenulum on the front of his dick.

Even though John was fast asleep, his dick responded to my gentle touches and it slowly filled with blood. Not increasing so much in length as in girth. It widened as more blood flowed into it. Stiffened slowly. As it stiffened it rose from the body of the sleeping boy. As it reached its peak, it stood in a near perfect 45 degrees angle, rising over his pubic bone. I could see it flex a little. For every heartbeat it would stiffen up just a bit, then relax, but never losing any of its firmness.

The boy's ball sack was completely relaxed as was the rest of his body. It looked far too large for the boy, sagging as it was. The impressive sized balls were close to the base of the little stiffy. Like they were desperately holding onto to the boy's stalk, as if they were afraid of falling into the sagging pouch underneath them. As I softly tickled the boy's pouch it tightened up, until it firmly hugged his balls. The sleeping boy's head had fallen to one side, making him snore quietly with every breath.

I decided to bypass sucking his dick, however tempting it was to me. I really had to get him to bed before he'd wake up and I was a bit tired myself from the day's activities. But before that, I just had to do something. I had always dreamt of doing it and here was my once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Gently I folded John's legs back towards his chest. Like he was a little baby laying on the changing table. I held his ankles in my right hand and used my index finger to circle his little boy hole. It was pretty clean, only a little moist from sweat. I pushed a little at his hole, watched as the little muscle moved inwards from the pressure of my finger. I let some spit dripple onto the hole slicking it up along with my finger.

I increased the force behind my finger, pressed it into John's bum. I could feel the muscle give way easily. In John's very relaxed state, I probably could have stuck my dick into him without it hurting him at all. I wasn't ready to cross that boundary, not yet and I certainly wouldn't want to do it while he was sleeping. It didn't prevent me from digging deeper with my finger though.

Ever so slowly, I pushed all of my finger into him. I didn't move it in and out like I would have if I had been preparing him for a nice fuck. Instead, I basked in the feeling of his warm rectum enclosing my finger. When he finally tensed up his butt hole, I gently allowed my finger to be pushed out by his muscle.

I picked up John and carried him like a baby to the bathroom. Not really knowing why, I put one of Andy's diapers on him, before I got him into his pajamas.

With both boys tucked into bed, I closed the door to Andy's room. I had a nice wank to the sweet fantasy of having sex with John. How he loved taking my 15 cm [~6 inches], huge to him, dick inside his tight little boy hole, gasping for me to fuck him ever harder. I shot off in record time. I hoped for it to happen someday, that the little angel would turn into a cock-loving slut. At the same time I knew that it wasn't ever going to be more than a dream in my perverted mind.

December had started out great, but Christmas was really lousy. It was Michelle's turn to have Andy, and she chose to spend it at her parent's house. So I could only speak to him for a few minutes every evening just before his bedtime and he wasn't even very interested in talking to me. I spent Christmas at my parents' house, but it was just so hard to get into the right mood. It all felt so incredibly, I'm struggling to find the right word, but fake. Oh, all the right food was there and every visual aspect of it was perfect.

There just wasn't any joy! Christmas is really a season for kids and without them, it seemed pointless. I sat there at the dinner table, eating the otherwise fantastic food my mom had spent hours preparing, and couldn't help but feel a little depressed. I missed the sound of my son's voice, his laughter, yes even his pleading and begging. He could have bawled his eyes out or screamed in anger and I'd still prefer that to sitting there, trying to hold up my end of the conversation.

We didn't do all of the dancing around the tree and singing as we used to do when I and Tom were kids. Or like we'd do the times when I'd have Andy for Christmas. We just lit the lights on the tree and sat there watching the candle-lit tree in all its glory. Yeah, as I said, there was nothing wrong visually. We exchanged presents, I got a couple of books that I read over the course of the next three days, until Andy finally returned to join me for our own little Christmas celebrations.

It was still Michelle's week, so I didn't get to see Andy until the 28th of December. When I read this, it almost sounds like Andy was a dog and we treated him like one. That wasn't at all how it was. We both adored our little boy and he loved us both equally, but he was a shared kid. Not much different from a kid whose parents were divorced, other than the fact Michelle and I were on extremely good terms. Hell, we even had sex from time to time.

***

Andy had been at my house for a few hours one Friday afternoon when he asked me a question. I sat in my lazy chair with Andy on my lap and we were just watching whatever was on TV at that time. He was bringing me up to speed on his Christmas experiences, so the TV was little more than background noise really. I think he at one point got tired of talking about the great presents he had gotten and diverted our conversation into something slightly different.

"Daddy? Me and John plays dicky games with each other, who do you play with?"

"I don't play with anyone," I told him, "Daddy just plays with himself."

Oh, I did pick up men and even some young teens from time to time when it wasn't my week to have Andy. But they were few and far apart. Not to forget I had sex with Andy's mother from time to time. However, It was something I just wasn't sure Andy would understand.

"It's boring to play on your own!"

"It can be boring, but daddy is fine, Tiger."

I hoped that would satisfy his need to know. Well, it didn't turn out that way.

"No. Let's play dicky games, daddy!"

"What?"

"Yep, come on, it'll be fun!"

Had I just jacked off, or even had someone over for a few hours the previous night, my willpower would have been firm enough to say no, I think. But I hadn't, and it wasn't. Things were made harder by my son who was about to take off his clothes right in front of me. I had always secretly lusted after his body, but had always, well almost always, been able to shake it off me. I decided to just sort of go with the flow. I'd leave it up to my son to decide for how long and what he wanted to do with me.

I wasn't about to do it right there in the living room though. So I picked him up as he was bent over undoing the Velcro laces on his shoes.

"Okay Tiger, let's go play then."

He laughed as I carried him into my bedroom and as he was propelled through the air landing on his back on my bed. His left shoe still on, but who cares when it's about having fun? I took off my shirt before joining him on the bed. I helped him take off his shoe and lay down on my side facing him. He started taking his hoodie off, but it got caught around his head. I reached over and pulled it the rest of the way off.

He really was such a cutie. His hair quite a mess, tousled up from the hoodie being removed. And the look in his eyes. If he had been ten years older I'd say it radiated pure lust or horniness. Maybe my own lust for him made me see something that just wasn't there. But it sure didn't look like my son Andy sitting there. I mean, it was his body, but it was like something had possessed it.

I took off my slacks and socks to divert my thoughts.

I left my underwear on, which Andy immediately objected to.

"You gotta be nekkid to play right."

"You mean naked?"

"'s what I said."

I had told myself to let him be in charge, so I abided to his rules. And soon my boxer briefs went sailing through the air to land next to my other clothes on the floor.

"So big!" Andy said looking at my dick as if it was his first time ever seeing it. It felt almost like I was a bug being studied under a magnifying glass.

He reached out a hand for it and grabbed it, tightly.

"Ow, not too tight, Tiger."

"And it's got fur!"

I'm by no means the hairiest of guys. I've seen teenagers with a bigger bush than I have down there. I much prefer guys who either shave or at least keep the jungle under control by trimming it. But to my son, whom I hope hadn't seen as many groins as I have and hopefully a lot fewer with pubic hairs, it seemed to be amazingly hairy.

"You'll grow hairs down there too," I told him.

"Really?"

"Yeah, in about six or seven years."

"Cooool."

I wanted to tell him that I liked his hairless little dinky. That I'd want to keep him like that forever or at least for a very, very long time but this was really no time for talking. He was busy pulling my foreskin back to have a look at the helmet-shaped dick head underneath it. I let him do his exploring, but decided to join in with a little exploring of my own. I had of course seen his dink many times already, even held it in my hand, but I hadn't really had much of a chance to openly play with it.

So I sat up Indian-style and sat him on one of my thighs. He could reach my dick fine from there, and I could reach his and much more, should the opportunity arise. I used a finger to tickle his small balls, prompting a short giggle but no complaint to my action. He had taken to stroke my bared dick head with a finger. I skinned back his hood and touched the very tip of his penis with my own finger, mimicking his actions.

His dicky quickly rose to the attention, thumped in the tight confinement two of my fingers formed around it. That's when I forgot my own rules. I wanted to taste his little dicky. To feel it in my mouth, make its taste and skin texture familiar to my tongue. So I picked him up and placed him on the bed on his back, gently spread his legs which he did quite by himself really. And I lay down with my head between them. I brought my mouth close to his dicky.

The taste was heavenly. Nothing short of it. The flavor of little boy dick invaded my taste buds, effectively blocking out any aftertaste from the cocoa we had earlier. A slight taste of pee and the slightly bitter taste of what little gunk had built up since his bath the previous night. Since it was my son I had in my mouth, I didn't find the taste offensive at all. It almost felt and tasted like Thomas' dink had when I had sucked him that first time.

This wasn't Thomas though, it was Andy. The fact Andy was my son didn't really bother me anymore.

If he wants to play, I'm ready. Now and forever on!

"It's better than John," I heard him say from somewhere above me.

It bloody well should be! I'm not a seven years old boy with no experience.

Keeping his dicky in my mouth, I opened it and moved my tongue down to lick at his balls. It didn't really work well, so I took his dick out and sucked in his ball sack and both of his small balls instead. I masturbated his dink with my left hand and used my right to lift up his left leg. As it lifted from the bed I pushed it backwards towards his chest. His little bum hole was now reachable by my tongue. I licked at it, tentatively at first.

I tried to assess his feelings towards this hopefully new experience for him. His quiet giggles told me he liked it. Letting myself go, I firmed up my tongue and poked at his tiny hole. Not with enough strength to enter it, I didn't even consider that thought. I just wanted him to feel the sensation of something warm and moist playing with his sensitive anus.

"Daddy! That's my bum!" He sounded dismayed.

I stopped what I was doing and looked up into his eyes.

"So that is why it tastes funny," I said and returned to what I had just been doing. I quite enjoyed the taste. He was clean down there (well, as clean as you can expect a small boy to be) and the musky taste of bum hole only got stronger the more I licked at it. He didn't voice any further concerns as to what I did to his nether exit. He probably thought I knew what I was doing and that it was okay for me to do so, since I'm his daddy. I lingered for a few more minutes at his backside. Then I let go of his leg.

"That was fun!" He let me know, "now roll over!"

I got onto my back, wondering what he was going to do to me now.

"Close your eyes," he commanded, "and no peeking!"

I shut my eyes, and could feel his hand grab hold of my dick. Then my foreskin was slid back. Something moist and soft touched it.

What is that? He surely can't be doing what it feels like!

But he was. I felt my dick head be enclosed by a tight ring, immediately followed by a moist and very warm sensation. I opened my eyes and lifted my head quickly.

He quickly backed off my dick, letting the head eject from his mouth.

"Dad! When I tell you to do something, you gots to do it!"

I had to smile at being told off by my five and a half years old son.

"Sorry, I'll do it."

I put my head back on the bed, closing my eyes. Succumbing to the inexperienced blowjob my son tried to perform on me. My dick was much too large for his little mouth, but that didn't stop him. At first, I felt it on my dick and then I heard him gag around it. The wet feeling of his mouth increased as more saliva amassed in it.

"Don't try to suck on too much of it Andy," I told him, "You're doing really well."

"It's too darn big!" I heard after he pulled off my dick a second time. And got back to sucking on just the head.

"No swearing!" I warned.

Already I was close to shooting my sperm into his mouth. Too fucking soon. I wanted to bask in the feelings for so much longer. A year would probably have been sufficient for me. But not a measly thirty seconds. It was just too wild having my son sucking on my dick without being asked or, worse yet, coerced into doing it. I knew he did it to John. But that was different, they were friends. We were father and son.

"Andy, you better stop now," I reluctantly told him.

"Nuh-uh" he hummed around my dick head.

"I mean it. If you don't you'll get a lot of yucky stuff in your mouth."

That finally made him pull away.

"You'd pee in my mouth?"

"No not pee. When grownups get the tickles, sperm will come out of their dicky," I explained as I sat up a bit.

"I wanta see!"

"Okay, but let me give you your tickles first."

I sucked him to a nice, dry kiddy orgasm, after which he again told me I was much better than John. But he made me swear a solemn oath never ever to tell John he had said that. I then whacked my dick with a very curious five years old boy observing closely.

"Is it coming?"

"Not yet."

"Now?" after a ten seconds pause.

"No, just wait and see."

"I wanna see it!"

"You'll never see it, if you won't be quiet."

At last that made him shut up. His eyes got really big as he witnessed the sperm pump out of my dick.

"That's not pee?"

"No, see? It's white and much thicker than pee. Pee is also more yellow and more like water."

He didn't want to touch my sperm, but did take a sniff at it when I held up my hand for him. He held onto my hand with both of his, worried I'd rub it on his nose.

"Ewww," he exclaimed and wrinkled up his nose in disgust.

***

Andy didn't ask me to play dicky games with him again for a very long time. I knew he still played them with John, but neither of the boys had any questions and I wasn't invited to join them. They were still only very young boys and while I must say I wanted to have sex with both of them again, I managed to keep my wants at bay. I'd never force them to have sex with me, I loved them both far too much for that.

While I'd never force Andy to do anything in terms of sex, I did spank him on his upturned bum at times. Nothing out of proportion, but if he did something during his terribly twos (and later on) that was downright dangerous to him, he'd get a good swat or three on his naked bottom. Afterwards I'd hold him in a firm hug and let him settle down. He usually didn't cry really hard, but I wanted him to be calm so I could explain why I had smacked his bottom. We always parted as friends. I made sure of that.

Some might call me brutal, I just call it getting his attention and getting him out of a dangerous situation with no damage other than a smarting bottom for a short period of time. It was in my opinion better than letting him get seriously burnt for example or having to sit in his room barred from contact with someone he loved. As he got older, the need to smack him fortunately decreased somewhat. I didn't like being the one causing the tears in his eyes. Oh, I've heard my share of "I hate you!" and slamming of doors, but it wasn't something that happened daily.

Most of the time I probably spoiled the kid rotten. Maybe it was because I only really had him part time. My boss knew I was a part time parent and let me cut back a little on my hours when I had him. He knew I'd spend more time at work when Andy was with Michelle. So in the end I worked the same hours as everyone else at work. Officially the work week was only 37 hours due to the collective agreements arranged by the unions. Unofficially I put in 45 or so hours every week on average.

I had the option of either taking the extra hours off from work or if I really needed the extra cash, get them converted into money. With the high taxes in Denmark, I really preferred to take the time off. At least the state wouldn't take half of the hours, like they did with my salary. A lot of the hours I took off, I used in the National Guard. Whenever I went to the school to be an instructor, I'd get paid for my time. Not a whole lot per hour, but I was paid 15-16 hours per day. At times I got more out of being a volunteer instructor than from my full time job.

The extra money then went to outings with Andy. Either day trips to different amusement parks, such as the Tivoli Gardens in Copenhagen or the Summerland Zealand, which is more adventure-oriented than Tivoli is. One of Andy's favorite places to go was Lalandia. It's this big adventure land with huge indoors swimming pools that has a tropical climate. It was also one of my favorite places. For Andy it meant having lots of fun, for me it was a place to watch half-naked boys of all ages.

Oh yes, even though I had ample opportunities to watch Andy and John in all of their naked glory, I did check out other boys too. Sometimes imaging what they'd look like running around naked; well, truth be told, if they would enjoy bed activities as much as Andy and John seemed to.

Once Andy and John started being friends, I brought John along to Lalandia as well. This made for some really interesting evenings with two boys zonked out from all the swimming, running and playing during the day.

***

Since I mentioned John anyway, he was with his family out of town that Christmas. For the entire time from the 17th of December until January 5th, they were spending time with his two sets of grandparents. Andy was slowly trying everything he could do to drive me insane. Without John to entertain him, that task fell upon me. On the 30th of December, a Sunday, Andy came out from his room. For the third time that day.

"Daddy! I dunno what to do now."

"Think of something."

"I did thinked already!"

"Think harder!"

"I can't. I'm bored."

"Play with your Legos."

"They're booooooooring."

Right, so Legos worth a small fortune is all of a sudden reduced to having no value at all.

"Draw me a picture."

"Of what?"

"ANYTHING!" I didn't want to shout, but Andy had really caught me at a bad time.

"Daddeeeee!," Andy cried out.

"Come on, Tiger, you know how to play," I said in a much softer and hopefully soothing voice.

"I want John."

I wanted him too. Not only for keeping Andy company but I really wanted to see and feel his body again. In particular that little circumcised dick of his. With his little bum hole a close runner up. Instead I opted for something else.

"Tiger, put your shoes and coat on."

"Yay!"

Andy scrambled to the hall as I shut down the computer. We couldn't have what we both really wanted, but at least there were other choices. I moved Andy's booster seat and got him buckled into the front passenger seat. I drove us both to my parents. I caught them completely by surprise, not having called ahead. They were, as always, really happy to see us though. While Andy yakked my dad's ears off in their living room, I went with my mom into the kitchen. She asked me why I hadn't called to say we were coming.

"But, what would you have done if we weren't home?" she continued after I told her I wanted it to be a surprise.

"Well, I took a chance, but really, where would you be, if not at home?"

She didn't have much of a comeback to that. The day before New Year's Eve wasn't really a day spent out partying. Besides they had both reached an age, where they much rather preferred to have people come to their house. Or go to Bingo, but this wasn't a Bingo night. Even if they hadn't been home, Andy and I would still have gotten a nice little road trip out of it. We spent the rest of the day there, only leaving after dinner. The wee one fell asleep on the way home.

The last day of 2007 we spent a lot of time outside. People were as usually lighting fireworks, so Andy and I walked hand in hand around the town, moving from one spot to another to stand and watch. All the walking made him tired, so he had a long nap before dinner and was able to stay awake to witness one year ending and another begin. I had worried the noise from the fireworks would keep him up all night, but to my surprise and great relief he managed to go to sleep without any troubles.

Chapter 21
John simulates going to sleep

Sometime later, John accompanied Andy one Friday as he made the move from Michelle's house to mine. It wasn't an altogether strange thing as John had taken to spend as many nights, as he possibly could get away with, at my house. Lyle asked me on more than one occasion if it was okay with me and told me I could always send the little scamp home if I ever had enough of him. I shrugged it off, said something in the lines of not really noticing him being around.

That Friday afternoon they arrived shortly after 4 PM, just as I had parked my car. If I had been the suspicious type, I'd say they had been waiting for me to return from work. As I unlocked the door to the house they appeared at the end of my short driveway.

"Daddy, you're home!" Andy cried out like he hadn't seen me in months.

"And so are you!" I tried to mimic his high-pitched voice, failing miserably at it.

"DAD, don't mock me."

"Hi John," I turned my attention to his little sidekick.

"Hi Teddy," John greeted me.

"Come, in you go," I opened the door and ushered the two boys inside.

Even with spring on its way, it was still chilly and cold outside and the boys of course hadn't bothered to put on coats to walk the less than 50 meters [~165 feet] from Michelle's to my house. At least this time they had remembered to bring them. The last time, I had to go fetch them myself as the boys were too chilled to go out again without winter coats on.

I decided to get dinner started and called the boys to help me, before they'd get too immersed into their playing. Even if they were young, they could probably have cooked the food on their own. I was just making a lasagna, which the boys loved, but to make it a little healthier I put in carrots, peas and corn along with the meat. Andy usually objected to vegetables but in a lasagna he would eat them just fine.

I had made him adjusted to the taste by blending the vegetables until they nearly liquefied and mixed that with the meat. But at five, nearly six, he actually enjoyed the different colors and the texture of the vegetables. If I made a meal where the vegetables were placed next to the meat and potatoes, he'd flat out reject to eat even a little of them though. He was just a normal picky eater. Like I had been myself, up until the time I went to the boarding school.

Anyway, the boys got a stack of carrots each and started peeling them using sharp potato peelers. I trusted them not to hurt themselves and if they had ended up cutting themselves, I had plenty of bandages. While the kids did that, kneeling on chairs in front of the kitchen sink, I set the table and then started cooking the sauce. No you can't have the recipe, it's been in my family for hundreds of years. Well, not really. It was just a package from the supermarket.

I do know how to make lasagna from scratch using no precooked items, but I only do it on days off work. And let's face it, the taste buds of young children can't really tell the difference from the really good stuff and stuff you buy somewhat ready to eat anyway. When the boys were done peeling and shredding the carrots, they washed their hands yet again and went to watch TV in the living room. I joined them after I had put the lasagna in the oven.

It was just some silly cartoons they were watching, but there's nothing like that to unwind from having to make grownup decisions at work. Decisions that in the end could mean the difference between all the trains in Denmark running or coming to a standstill because one of the servers had failed.

We had finished eating and cleaning up after dinner at around 7 PM, when the boys went to Andy's room to play behind a closed door. I watched the news and checked my emails, and at 8:30 PM I ran the bath for the boys to share.

"Boys, bath time!" I shouted loud enough for them to hear me, but not disturb the neighbors.

They came flying into the bath room, already removing items of clothing on the way. John had been shy around me in the beginning when I'd give them a bath, but now he really seemed to look forward to it and enjoyed the playful activity. When the boys were dry and in their pajamas, Andy with his trusty diaper underneath, we went into Andy's room.

I told them one of my stories and had tucked them in by 9:30 PM. I sat down with a glass of the white wine I had opened for dinner and watched the beginning of a movie on the TV. I couldn't really concentrate on it, my thoughts kept going back to the bathing session. I decided to read a bit in a book instead. I didn't really want to get too deep into thinking about naked boys or I'd have to whack off at an earlier time than I presumed was safe.

I sat in my lazy chair having read a couple of pages when I heard the door to Andy's room open. I looked up and saw John looking at me.

"Hey buddy, can't sleep?" I asked him.

He shook his head and came over standing next to me sitting in the chair.

"Teddy, what does pervert mean?" he asked me.

"Where did you hear that word?" I asked, surprised that a seven years old boy would even know the vile word.

"My dad called me that," the little guy said quietly.

I turned my lazy chair so I could lift John into my lap. As I sat him sideways, he leaned his head up against my shoulder.

"Why did he say that to you?" I asked.

What the hell is wrong with that idiot, Lyle?

I placed my hand on his shoulder and hugged him.

John told me about the time where he had been caught playing much the same game as he played with Andy. A secret game. John had only been around 4, as far as I could figure out from the way he told his story. It wasn't exactly chronologic. But I got the essence of it. His partner in crime had been an age mate, his best friend at the time.

"No," John corrected himself, "Ben was my only friend."

They would play the game only when outside, where no one would ever come and surprise them. At least in the beginning. As time progressed, they would find other places to play it. Places that didn't take so long to get to. At the end they'd just go into a closet in their classroom in the kindergarten.

"And then, then my teacher opened the door to the closet and yelled at us," John was crying by then, making it hard for me to understand his words.

"My dad yelled at me that I was a pervert and never to do that again," now he was really sobbing.

"I never saw Ben again!"

I placed my other arm around John, hugged him close and kissed the top of his head. I whispered to him that he wasn't a pervert. That he was a very sweet boy, indeed one of the sweetest boys I knew.

Not that I know very many.

But John was truly just a sweet, caring little boy. Always helping Andy, and genuinely wanting to help me when he was around my house.

I let John cry, sometimes you really need to rinse the sorrow away with your tears. Ending it prematurely doesn't work. Trust me on this, I know. It took a good fifteen minutes for the boy to slowly stop crying. When he seemed to be ready, I spoke to him again.

"John, buddy, I'm not going to explain what pervert means. It's a bad word. One that doesn't fit you at all."

He seemed to be relieved by my words. I wasn't sure if he'd accept them, maybe he would return at another time, demanding to know more about the word. But right then, it seemed like a weight had fallen from his shoulders. He sat up straight in my lap and looked at me. With his cheeks still wet from his tears, he smiled at me. His little signature smile. I wondered just what went on in his little bright mind when he said something that would have knocked me off my feet, if I hadn't been sitting already.

"I liked it when you put your finger in my bum hole," he chippered at me.

"You were awake?" I was shocked.

I thought the boy had been asleep. He hadn't moved a muscle, not until the very end at least.

He simply nodded his head one time down and then looked back at me suddenly looking all serious.

"Andy won't do anything to my bum. He says it's yucky."

I rubbed his shoulder.

"Did you really like it when I played with your butt?"

"Uh-huh," he acknowledged.

I moved my hand from his shoulder, slowly down his back, finally lightly cupping one of his butt cheeks.

"Want me to play with it again?"

I could feel his head moving against my chest as he nodded.

"Okay buddy, help me take your pants down."

He lifted up his butt as I pulled on his jammies bottoms. They slipped off his little bum and I pulled them all the way off his feet. The half-naked imp sat back down on my lap. I moved him so he sat with his back against my chest and little legs on either side of mine. Leaning back I made the chair recline. I placed my feet back on the footstool.

"Buddy, put your feet on my thighs," I gently said and helped him do that.

Now I could reach behind his right leg and gain access to his little butthole. While my left hand was free to fondle his dicky.

Damn it, where's the fucking lube when I need it?

Here I was, close to fulfilling yet another one of my die hard fantasies and I didn't have anything to make his anus slippery. I thought of using spit like the last time, but now John was awake and actually wanted me to finger his little ass, I wanted to use the real thing. It would make it so much better for him and it wouldn't dry up nearly as quickly as spit.

"Hang on tight, buddy," I told him, "We need to get something."

He looked back up at me, not really understanding. I grabbed hold of his thighs, holding him securely in the position I had so carefully gotten him in to. Then I moved my feet from the footstool yet again and shifted our combined weight forwards so the chair moved to its upright position. At the end of the chair's movement I got onto my feet. It was tricky to keep my balance, but I had lugged more weight around in the Guard than what the impish boy weighed.

I walked over to the table where my computer was, with John still folded up in front of me and clinging to my forearms. I bent a bit in my knees and leaned over a little.

"Open the top drawer, please."

He opened it and took the items I told him to. Then I moved us back to the lazy chair and gingerly sat down again. We ended up in pretty much the same position as we had started out from. But this time, plenty of lube and paper tissues were in reach. As that was what John was holding in his hands.

"Now we can play," I told the smiling boy.

I took the tube of clear water-based lube and squeezed out a big dollop onto two fingers. I moved my hand down to his waiting hole.

"This will be a bit cold at first," I warned him as I pushed my fingers gently at his anus.

He made a little hissing sound, but bore it bravely. I transferred as much of the gooey stuff onto his ass, slicked up not only his anus but part of his buttocks too. By turning my index finger around in the goo I made it as slippery as I could before I placed the very tip of it just outside of his little opening.

"Ready for this?" I asked the now very silent boy.

"Uh-huh, stick it in my bum," he said with determination in his voice.

I went slow, almost slower than I had that night after my birthday party was over. Apparently he knew what to do, as I slid my finger in without any obvious pain. When I finally couldn't push more into him, I asked him if he liked it.

"Yes!"

I had my hand, of which one finger was deeply imbedded into the seven years old boy, in between his legs. So it was easy turning it to be able to play with the little pleasure spot inside his ass. I wanted to see if such a small boy would be getting any joy out of being massaged inside his ass or if it wouldn't happen until puberty. Based on the sudden flinching of his lithe body, it wasn't just older boys and men that could get something out of their prostate.

John's prostate was of course far less developed than a grown man's but it was there and I massaged it slowly and very lightly. The little boy breathed harder. I didn't want this to end too soon but wanted to prolong it so both of us got the most out of it. John seemed to enjoy having something up his butt and if I played my cards just right, maybe it wouldn't stop at just one finger being pushed inside of him. I wanted to see if he'd enjoy being fucked too. I pulled back on my finger.

I pulled it almost all the way out of his slick bum hole and could feel the butthole tighten up as I moved it out. Like he tried with all of his might to make my finger stay inside.

"Don't worry, John, we're not done yet," I whispered.

He got the point as I pushed my finger back in. I could feel it, even if he didn't say so. His butt loosened its tight grip on my finger as soon as he realized it was coming back for more. I made sure the tip slid carefully across his prostate. He gasped quietly as I reached it.

"Like it?"

"Uh-huh."

Not a very talkative boy, not at that moment, but I knew what he was experiencing. I knew that John had to be a miniature version of myself. Someone who loved having something up his ass. I brought my other hand down to join the one between his legs. I got it slicked up with some of the excess lube and then took hold of his dicky, while I kept working my finger slowly in and out of him.

I fondled his dicky into a stiffy and stroked it inside my fist. His little dick head would just peek out over the rim formed by my thumb and index finger when I pushed my hand all the way down into his pubic bone. On the up stroke I didn't stop until only the head was held by my little finger. Then slowly down again. I matched the speed that I moved up and down on his dick to the one I was going in and out his little bum hole.

His breathing was more rapid now and much more powerful. Like he was struggling to get the air his body needed. His eyes were closed but not tightly so. He had a look of heavy concentration on his face. Like he was desperately trying to decode the signals bombarding his brain from several parts of his body. Oh, how I wanted to be able to plug into his brain and feel what he felt. To see what he was thinking.

I sped up a little. Both in front and rear. I was moving my hands quite fast by then. The finger in his ass made little slurping noises. Or was it the hand on his dick that made the noise? I don't know, I just know it was the sound of sex. This wasn't a little boys' game. I was truly and utterly having sex, penetrative sex, with this little boy. The little friend of my son. And it felt so right. It felt as if it was the purpose of my life. That everything had only happened to lead up to precisely this moment.

John gasped out loud. Really loud I mean. I could feel his hole tightening up rhythmically around my finger. He moaned quietly for me as he underwent his kiddy cum. I slowed my finger in his ass and stopped moving it completely when I had it deep inside of him. My fingers on his dicky, pushed firmly into his pubic bone. Holding his dick tight, I could feel it pulsing, not a lot, certainly not as strongly as his ass was gripping my finger when he had one of the muscle spasms that in years to come would send sperm flying out his dick.

He didn't go on forever, but it was as if time had slowed right down and it seemed to take quite a while before the time between each spasm increased, the strength of them decreased, and finally they stopped altogether. John seemed to have melted in my arms. His body completely relaxed, although he was still breathing really fast. His breathing slowed down over the next few minutes in which I removed my fingers from his dick and butt.

I thought he was asleep as I gently got him into my arms and carried him into the bathroom where I put him on his back on the changing pad. The one where I'd put Andy in his diapers, yes. I cleaned up John like I had done Andy so many times. With a damp washcloth lovingly moving over his little bum cheeks, pressing ever so gently into the hole to wipe away any traces of lube. Finally wiping his little dicky and pubis clean as well.

I had reached up for a diaper before I knew what I was doing. I had it in my hand, already unfolding it when I suddenly remembered it wasn't Andy laying there in front of me. It was John. And John didn't need to be diapered.

"Please," he said quietly.

I looked him in his eyes and he nodded at me.

"I want it."

I granted him his wish and put the diaper on him. After all, he was the best friend of my son. But to me, he was starting to become so much more than that.

The following morning I woke before the boys did. I had set my alarm that morning. I usually slept in on the weekends. That is at least what I did when I didn't have Andy, when he was at my house, I'd only get to sleep until the time where Andy would try to rip my arm from the rest of my body.

***

"But daddy, it's time to get up!" he'd use as an excuse for trying to maim me.

I'd groggily wave him off, sometimes it even worked. For all of five minutes. Then he'd be back pulling at my arm again. That's when I'd finally shake off the sweet dream of just going back to sleep and get out of bed. I'd follow Andy into the bathroom, put him on the counter and remove his saturated diaper. At least he had stopped pooping in his diaper more than 2 years earlier. It was just his bladder that was too small to hold the pee building up at night.

Or maybe his body wasn't producing the proper hormones to make his kidneys slow the urine production when he slept. I wasn't sure and neither I, nor Michelle, Andy's mother, were overly concerned about it. It just meant I gave some more of my money to Huggies. Michelle was more into saving money, so she used cloth diapers. I thought that was gross, particularly if not washing the diaper the very same day it had been used. But her house, her rules.

In my house, Andy wore Huggies Overnights, the largest size. It had Winnie the Pooh on it, an extremely cute design, and fortunately Andy didn't really seem to care what was on the diaper. I think he would've gone to sleep in a plastic shopping bag, if it meant he'd wake up in a dry and warm bed. He hadn't yet reached an age where he dreaded having to wear a diaper at night. It was just what he had always done, so it was only natural for him.

***

That morning, I had set the alarm to wake me at 6:00 AM. It was about an hour earlier than Andy would normally be wanting me to get up and remove his diaper, our usual morning ritual. I got up earlier, as I wanted to check up on John before Andy woke up. I had put John in a diaper the previous night after I finger fucked the little tyke to orgasm. I had tucked him in and kissed his forehead before I went and had and wank of my own, using the same lube on my dick as I had used on and in him.

I wanted to ask John whether he wanted Andy to know about him wearing a diaper to bed or not. Before waking John, I checked his diaper. I put my hand under the covers and moved it to his crotch. I could feel the diaper had been used. It had swelled up just like Andy's would. John was still very much at sleep and I knew he didn't wet himself at night.

He must have peed in it on purpose before falling asleep.

The thought made me smile.

I shook the boy, gently at first. He didn't wake up, just murmured a little in his sleep. I tickled his nose lightly. He just swatted my hand away, still sleeping. Then I moved my hand underneath his pajamas top and tickled his ribs.

"Nooo, stop," John finally said, sleepily.

"Sorry, buddy," I said keeping my voice low, "Do you want to get the diaper off now without Andy seeing?"

"No," he yawned and he was out like a light again.

After making sure Andy was still asleep and hoping he'd be in that state for yet another couple of hours, I quickly went and drained my bladder before returning to my own, warm bed.

Only to feel my arm being tugged at about an hour later.

God, why are you doing this to me?

"I am awake now, Andy. You can stop your pulling."

"Daddy, guess what?"

"What?"

"John got a diaper on."

"Oh, really?" I said acting surprised.

As if I don't know already, I only put him in it.

"Yes. He peed it!"

"He did?"

"Yep. Just like me!"

"Nooo! You didn't pee in your diaper, did you?"

"Daddy, you know I pee my diaper," he said seriously.

"I do know, Tiger," I said and pulled him into bed with me, "and daddy loves you."

I smothered his little face with sloppy kisses while tickling his tummy.

"DADDY!" he shrieked, "I'll pee in your bed if you don't stop!"

"So? You are wearing protection," I grabbed at his diaper while still tickling him with my other hand.

Andy giggled and squirmed, but didn't really do much to fend off my tickling. About a minute later his body stopped squirming. As his giggling stopped, he got a look on his face that I knew really well. The look of a boy enjoying the feeling of pee rushing through his penis and the satisfying sensation of a full bladder being emptied. I stopped my tickling and rubbed his tummy through his pajamas.

"I'm done now," he said a moment later.

It was the same words a smaller version of Andy had said when he sat on his potty when being potty-trained. Obviously after he had finished peeing or the other thing, you do when you sit on a potty. Fortunately the diaper didn't leak. I can't remember any other time where one of Andy's diapers had been so full of pee. It had swelled up to max capacity and still hadn't been able to absorb all of the pee that had vacated Andy. I found out when I had him on the counter just a wee bit later.

"Did you wake up John?" I asked Andy.

"I'm here!" John said from the end of the bed.

"How long have you been here?"

"Since Andy woke you."

"Sorry buddy, I didn't see you. I would've done the same to you. But Andy really needs to get out of his diaper now."

"It's okay. I peed in the diaper when Andy woke me."

What a boy!

I couldn't decide which little boy's diaper to take off first. I knew Andy's was about bursting at the seams, but didn't know the exact state of John's. As I sat up in the bed with my feet on the floor, I beckoned John to come to me. He got close enough for me to reach out with my hand and get a good feel of his diaper. He even spread his legs apart allowing my hand to move further in between his legs. His diaper didn't feel quite as soaked as Andy's. A lot more swelled up than earlier that morning, but not at risk of leaking.

As I fondled his diaper my mind flashed back to the night before. How I had so unashamedly abused this little boy who had clearly enjoyed everything I had done to him. My dick quickly rose to attention. Like it was hoping for some more action.

"Daddy, your penis is all big again."

Andy, the ever so observing boy had been lying on the bed next to me. When he reached for my dick, I got up from the bed. I had to get that diaper off of him before he'd turn my bed into a waterbed.

"Boys go to the bathroom, I'll be right with you."

Chapter 22
Andy, the little voyeur

As the boys left my bedroom I grabbed a bottle of lube from my bedside table. Yeah, you didn't think I only have one? Like a true boy scout or a soldier, I prepare myself for any situation. Following the boys, I entered the bathroom. They were standing there, giggling a bit. I decided to go for Andy first and sat him up on the counter in front of me.

The counter with the sink was one of my own designs. I didn't make it myself, but I did specify my needs to the carpenter who made it for me. It was 2.2 meters wide, with the sink sitting on the left hand side when you stood in front of it. It left 150 cm of table top that was 60cm deep [~60x23"]. Michelle had made the changing pad for Andy to lie on. It was basically just an oversized changing pad for babies.

It was a small foam mattress with foam risers glued onto the longest sides and then covered in easily cleanable vinyl fabric. I had a towel on it so Andy's skin wouldn't stick to the vinyl. The pad was 100 cm by 50 cm [~40x20"] and Michelle had made it for me when Andy had turned five and showed no interest in staying dry at night. It still worked quite well since Andy could lay on it with no risk of falling onto the floor by accident. Above the counter, I had installed two shelves which held a stack of diapers, along with other toiletries.

Andy knew what was about to happen of course, and was already unzipping his onesie pajamas. He pulled his arms out of the sleeves and pushed the onesie down to his butt. Then he lay back on the pad and used his thigh muscles to push his butt off the pad. When I pulled the onesie jammies down to his ankles, he lifted his legs into the air and I removed the jammies completely. He parked his butt back onto the pad and parted his legs as much as the pad allowed him to.

All of this happened in a very short time without either of us having to communicate. I ripped open the taps holding the diaper snug to his tummy and the front of it fell outwards on its own. That's how full it was. I rolled the diaper up around itself while Andy lifted his butt again. The skin in his diaper area was glistening from moisture in the bright light from the lamp fixture over the sink. I got a washcloth and wrung it up using temperate water.

I lovingly washed my son down and removed all traces of pee from his body. When I washed his anus, I thought back to the night before and remembered why I had brought the lube into the bathroom. The bottle was sitting just there, between the pad and the sink. Such a small distance away. I only had to stretch out my arm and I'd be able to grab it. Some say from thought to action, there can be a long way. Not at that time. Not really.

Andy thought he was done, began to sit up, and looked bewildered when I gently pushed him back down. He did lie down and stayed put when I grabbed the lube. He hadn't seen the bottle of lube before and clearly didn't know what it meant. He lay there watching my actions as I opened the cap and got some lube on my fingers. He smiled when I began to rub his dick and balls with the lube.

"Yay, dicky games!" he exclaimed.

I smiled down at him and fondled his little package, the lube really made things slippery. His little dicky slipped from my fingers a few times until I finally was able to hold onto it. It grew, fairly quickly, into the little stiffy I had gotten so familiar with from bathing him. Andy didn't say anything when I traced the way down his perineum to his little hole with a finger. He just looked a little confused at me.

He seemed to be really getting into what I was doing when all of a sudden he stopped me.

"No, daddy!"

I instantly froze.

"You can't do that to my bum."

My finger had only just breached the rim to his little anus. I think part of my fingernail was still on the outside of it.

"Please, just once?" I asked my son.

"No, I don't like it!"

"I did it to John last night. And he liked it."

Andy turned his head and looked at John. John's cheeks were a little red, either from embarrassment or excitement, I couldn't tell which. He looked into Andy's eyes and nodded.

"I do like it."

Andy looked at him for a little while longer then turned his head to look at me.

"John likes it, you can play with his bum."

"You won't mind?"

"No. Don't play with my bum like that. Do that to John."

I looked into my son's eyes and tried to see if he really meant it.

"Yep, do that with John, not me," he said again.

I looked down at John. He smiled at me and nodded, seemingly well-pleased with the idea.

"Okay Tiger."

I made sure to take my time to give Andy his little kiddy cum. I stroked his little dicky with my left hand and just fondled his little balls with my right. Sometimes letting my fingers slide down and across his little bumhole. But not inside. Not when Andy so clearly didn't want me to.

When Andy had shuddered through his orgasm, I once again used the washcloth on him, this time wiping off lube, not pee. I sat him down the floor on his two feet and he turned to watch when I picked up John. I placed him on the pad where my son only moments before had writhed in his little kiddy orgasm. John allowed me to undress him, but didn't lift a finger to help me. It was like he was just a little baby unable to do anything but sit or lie. I didn't mind that at all.

I got his top off by taking hold of the seam at his hips. Pulling it upwards, it turned inside out, until first his head popped out and finally his hands emerged from the end of the long sleeves. I pushed on his chest and he let himself fall back. He just relaxed and let gravity do the rest. Had it not been for the foam in the pad, he would have hurt the back of his head. I grabbed hold of his ankles with one hand and lifted his legs and bum clear off the pad.

Then worked the pajamas bottoms over his diapered butt and off his legs. He didn't spread his legs like Andy had done, just left them where they had fallen to the pad. I looked at his face. He had put one of his thumbs into his mouth and was sucking on it like a baby. It was really sweet. I ripped open the snaps on his diaper and pushed at his legs by the ankles until his knees bent. Folded over like the boy ended up being, it was a simple task to remove his diaper.

I put it next to Andy's diaper. I'd dispose of them later. Right then, I had more important issues at hand. John's dicky had already sprung into a chubby erection. I let his feet down on the pad, but put them close to his butt, with the soles on the pad. Spreading his knees apart gave me access to his bum hole, his little joystick and balls. Everything that really mattered at the time. I decided to forego the washcloth, I hadn't rinsed it after wiping the lube off Andy.

I bent over and licked John's little dick from the balls all the way to the flared tip of his little head.

"Not fair! You didn't do that to me," Andy cried out.

"Don't worry, little man. I'll make it up to you," I comforted him.

"You better," I heard him say as I sucked in John's relatively large balls.

They were certainly bigger than Andy's. They were a little out of proportion to John's dick, but I could still get both balls in my mouth at once with room to spare. I toyed with them with my tongue. John was still sucking on his thumb, more eagerly now. I could see him suck in his cheeks as he made a vacuum in his mouth. Then his cheeks would return to normal, only to be sucked in again. I would have loved to have my dick in his mouth instead of his thumb.

I released his balls from the captivity of my mouth and almost hungrily attacked his dicky. Mimicking what I had just seen John do to his thumb, I started sucking on his dicky and let my tongue run laps around his dickhead.

"Stick your finger in his bum!"

Obviously, Andy wasn't pleased with the show we were giving him. I could feel John moving for the first time after I had sat him on the pad and he propped himself up. I looked up and saw his face.

"Yes, just like last night," he agreed with Andy's proposal.

I found the bottle of lube without ever letting go of John's dicky with my mouth and squirted a hefty dollop of lube directly onto John's bum hole. He had put his upper body back on the pad after he told me what to do. I found the entry to his hole after only searching for a second or two. I had to rely on my sense of touch as I still didn't want to take my mouth off the tasty dicky in my mouth. I pushed my finger into the first joint a bit more forcibly than I had planned.

John flinched his legs, if only a little. It was enough for me to notice, but he didn't cry out, so I had probably only startled him. I sucked more vigorously on his dick and a moment later I pushed my finger into the second joint. This time John moaned from it.

"Wow!" Andy said, "You got your finger all the way in his butt."

I did my best to nod in agreement, still unwilling to let go of John's dicky.

I didn't want to take my mouth off of it until I had sensed the very last of the spasms I knew his bum hole and dicky would undergo during his kiddy cum. My finger was however not all the way in, a final push was needed for that. I twisted it around a little and turned it as well. Then I began moving it in and out. Slowly to begin with, then gradually picked up speed. I could feel the hole give way more easily after about a minute. Without much thinking, I pulled my finger out, only to stick in my middle finger with my index finger closely following it.

I had slowed down the inwards movement of my two fingers considerably as the index slipped in on top of the middle finger. Slowed, not stopped. I kept pushing the fingers inside in a very slow, but never stopping, fluid motion. As the first joint of my index finger slipped through John's, by then, much tighter anus, the width of my combined fingers really started to increase. John gasped and flexed his stomach and thigh muscles.

I knew he probably never had anything of this size move into his bum before. Surely, he must have had bigger stuff pass out of it, so I wasn't overly concerned about hurting him physically. I had plenty of lube on my fingers and his hole was pretty much full of it as well. So I kept pushing. The second joint on both fingers were by then at the outside of his anus. Waiting eagerly to join the first joints on the other side of the tight muscle, inside the very hot core of the little boy lying in front of me.

They began their journey, it was only such a short distance to travel, but I knew John would be able to feel every little step of the way.

He had gone back to moaning, at least when he exhaled. He'd take a quick sharp intake of air, then let it out slowly making a high-pitched moan while doing so.

Whatever it was he tried to do, it seemed to be working. His anus was losing the fight against my invading fingers.

"Ewww, that's yucky!" Andy said and faked puking.

"Nuh-uh, it's good," John took a short break from his moaning.

"Never ever will I want to try that."

"Good," John managed to say, "more for me."

"You can have it all!"

And that was exactly what John already had. I couldn't possibly push any further into his bum. My other fingers were right next to the little hole, which wasn't so little just then. I briefly had a fleeting fantasy of my dick entering his hole. If he could take two fingers, my dick would fit inside of him too. I started moving my fingers back and then jabbing them inside again. From my experience last night, John liked it just a tad bit rough. Not like an experienced bottom would, but rough in the eyes of a little boy.

"Daddy, you're hurting John!"

I guess the sounds John made could be heard as sounds from pain, at least to an untrained ear that is. I knew the sounds, these were not from pain, they were from a boy seriously enjoying himself. A boy who had submitted to the overwhelming feelings of pleasure. John was in no state to speak and I didn't want to abort what I was doing to try to explain. It wasn't too long before he finally let go though. His little body must have felt like being hit by a speeding truck. He tensed up some ten seconds before the orgasm whisked him off to another place.

It was so powerful he lost control of his bladder. It fortunately wasn't full as he had peed in the diaper when he woke, thank God for that, but he spurted a short stream of pee into my mouth. I was surprised at this, at first thinking John had came in my mouth, but quickly realizing it wasn't the texture nor the taste of sperm in my mouth. It was the slightly salty and bitter taste of boy pee. The short burst into my mouth wasn't enough to fill it by any means and I let it sit there for a while, trying to decide if I enjoyed it more than the taste of cum.

I don't think I've ever let on I enjoy or even tolerate the taste of cum. That's because I really don't. It's just much too salty and slimy. The pee I had in my mouth wasn't slimy, if anything it seemed like water, just with a very different taste to it. I don't think I'll ever quite enjoy the taste of pee either. But I could tolerate it, at least the small amount John had accidently spurted into my mouth. I don't think John ever realized he peed in my mouth. I never told him and I swallowed it as quietly as I could.

I certainly didn't tell Andy either. The little voyeur stood there next to the counter, eyes wide open and mouth agape and not really understanding what he had just witnessed. It took me some time to explain it wasn't pain John had gone through. John tried as well, but couldn't really say what it had been like. Just that it had been one of the best feelings in his life. He tried to convince Andy to just try it but Andy could be a very stubborn child.

"I said it already, I never wanna do that," he finally said.

"But I wanna see it again!" He quickly added.

Chapter 23
John gets a soda

It wasn't until about a month later when Andy finally got to witness John and I having sex again. I had hoped for it to be sooner, but I didn't want to be the instigator. John had to be the one to make the suggestion. I just had to get by with my old routine of wanking to porn late in the evening. Andy, like the great son he was, and still is, helped me out one late afternoon as well.

He was meant to be at Michelle's that day, but an old school friend of hers had called her and invited her out for coffee. Andy was sent to my house while she was out. I was used to seeing John tagging along with Andy pretty much all of the time, but that day Andy was alone when Michelle left him with a little smear of lipstick on his cheek at my doorstep.

"I'll be back to pick him up before his bedtime," she told me as she hurried towards the bus stop, "Thanks, Teddy!"

Andy was disgusted when he saw the lipstick on his face in the mirror I had in my little entrance hall. My first task of the afternoon was to use a wet wipe to clean his cheek. When he was finally satisfied there were no microscopic traces of lipstick left on his cheek, he grabbed my hand.

"Come daddy, let's play!"

He dragged me into his room. He unzipped my pants and tried to undo the button.

"Why does it hafta be so complicated?" he whined, "You do it."

So Andy learned a new word. From now on everything will be complicated, whether or not it is.

I didn't answer him, only did as I was asked. When the button was undone, my slacks fell to the floor leaving me in just my boxer briefs. Tight ones. I prefer to keep my balls tight to my body, hate the feeling of them bouncing all over the place as I walk. Yeah, I got low hanging balls. They hang lower than the head of my dick when it's flaccid. Andy pulled down my briefs, just enough for my dick and balls to be uncovered.

My dick was slowly on the rise. Andy bent over a little and took it into his mouth. None too gently he grabbed hold of my ball sack as he tried to swallow my cock whole. I had started shaving off my pubes after the first time Andy had commented on how hairy I was down there. His lips got real close to my pubis, but as my dick stretched from the attention, his lips ended up further and further away from it. It didn't stop him from trying, though.

He held two fingers around the base of my dick right where his lips had been closest to my pubis. As he kept sucking me off, he tried to get his lips to touch his fingers again. He went about this slowly, only taking a little bit more of my dick inside his mouth. When his gag reflex kicked in, he backed off just a little. After he swallowed the mouthwater generated by his gagging, he went back in.

He did eventually learn how to take all of my dick into his mouth and probably a little ways into his throat, but that was a few years later when his mouth cavity had increased somewhat in depth.

As it was, I had a lot of pleasure out of what he did. He didn't like my sperm, seemed almost frightened of it, but he liked the taste of my pre-sperm. I didn't generate a ton of it, but he'd milk my dick while looking closely at the slit of my dick head. When he'd see the pre-sperm form at the slit, he would lick it up with the tip of his tongue.

Andy was quite the little cocksucker. I thanked John silently for teaching Andy how to suck so nicely. While I don't really know if John had taught him, I'm sure Andy wasn't born to be such a skilled cocksucker. It was quite the scene really. If you had been watching us from outside the window, you would have seen a slightly overweight man with his pants down around his ankles. Underwear lowered to the middle of his thighs.

A fully dressed boy standing in front of him, somewhat bent over busily sucking said man's cock. If the window had been open, you would have heard the slight noises generated by his slobbering mouth, the sudden small gagging sounds from the boy. And as an overtone the slight moans and sounds of appreciation and affection coming from the man. You'd see the man use his hands to caress the boy's head, mess up his hair in the process.

I gently tried liberating my cock from Andy's onslaught just before I came. He understood what was about to happen, had witnessed what happened when I had my orgasm. Instead of moving as far away as possible, he tilted his head and moved his mouth to the underside of my dick. He tickled the head with his tongue and nursed my frenulum as I whacked my dick for the short time it took for orgasm to hit me. My sperm shot out, clearing his mouth by the shortest of distances possible.

As the shots turned into oozing, sperm got onto his cheek. I saw it happen and thought Andy would quickly move out of the way, screaming "EWW" as he'd frantically try to get my sperm off his face without using his hands. However, his mouth never left my dick until I was done. After the orgasm left my body in its normal relaxed state, albeit with a galloping heart and heavy breathing, Andy let go of my dick.

"Did I do good?" he asked me.

"You did GREAT!"

"Now get your yucky sperm offa me."

I laughed at my son's words, but pulled up my pants and went for a damp washcloth. I tenderly wiped off the stuff that had been part of creating the little boy in front of me. A boy now fully able to express his utter displeasure towards it.

"Now me?" he asked when he deemed all of the sticky substance had been wiped from his face.

"Yes, now you."

I pulled his pants and tight Batman briefs down to his ankles and placed him on his back on the bed. I got down on my knees in front of him and had him hold on to his legs as he lay doubled over.

"No finger!" he made sure I knew where the limit was.

"No fingers, I promise," I said and dived in on his little anus.

Andy may not have liked the sensation of something entering his little hole, but he sure enjoyed it when I massaged the outside of it. I loved listening to his happy sounds while I teased his opening with my tongue. True to my word, I didn't try to finger him. Though I would have loved to do it, I loved him far too much to betray his trust. I knew he was much more interested in having his dicky played with, so after a few more minutes of lapping at his hole, I let him bring his legs down again.

I fondled his little dicky, it was stiff and I had fun fiddling with his floppy foreskin. It was fortunately loose enough to glide effortless down baring his little helmet and back up to protect it from the environment. I stuck my little finger into his foreskin supported by the fingers of my other hand. All the way in my finger tip explored, making the skin swell out indicating where my finger was. I gently circled it around his helmet stopping when the path was blocked by the frenulum.

When I tried to do the same with my tongue it proved impossible. His foreskin was unfortunately too small and just slid down and off his helmet. Andy sure didn't seem to mind the failure of my experiment. He was partway giggling and cooing from the sensation of my tongue on his sensitive skin. While my hands caressed his thighs and tummy I sucked him to his version of an orgasm. As he basked in the feelings afterwards I gently massaged the bared parts of his body.

***

Like I mentioned in the beginning of this chapter, I was really hoping for a repeat with John. The following Saturday where he spent the night was a disappointment in that regard. Sure he let me bathe him, but didn't ask for or even as much as give a little hint that he wanted to have my finger up his sweet bum again.

I'll just have to wait for the next sleepover for it to happen.

I stroked my dick watching porn that late Saturday evening after the boys had been put to bed. And both of them were sleeping. I had checked twice to see if John was really out for the night.

It turned out I only had to wait another twelve days. I had picked up Andy from his kindergarten and John from the afterschool care center early that Thursday afternoon. I simply put had nothing to do at work and was bored out of my mind. So I had punched out at the start of my lunch break. I don't know if the boys were happy of me wanting to collect them at 1:30 PM, but they did at least come home with me without any fussing, even though they had to stop their playing.

That Thursday was rainy and quite cold. The sky was gloomy and the gusts of wind were almost at gale level. So whatever we were going to do would have to be indoors. I parked the boys in front of the TV while I made lunch for myself. The boys had already eaten their lunches at the kindergarten and school.

I had just finished eating and sat down in my lazy chair when Andy wanted my attention.

"Daddy, I wanna see you stick your finger in John's bum again," he said from the couch.

He was lying with his legs up against the back cushion, his back on the seat and his head hanging over the edge of the seat, watching TV upside down. Not an altogether rare thing for him to do, but I can't help but wonder how he could make anything out of what he was watching. I looked at him, then at John and back at Andy.

"Tiger, maybe John doesn't want me to stick my finger in his bum," I told him, "Did you ask him what he wants?"

"No, but I know he wants to," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I looked over at John, who was sitting indian-style on the sofa, farthest away from me. He was looking at me. The look on his face was kind of hard to tell. At first his expression really stated surprise, then his cheeks turned quite red.

"Do you?" I asked.

"Okay."

"Okay buddy. We have to make you go potty first then."

I got up from my chair and held out my hand to John. He took it and we walked to the bathroom, hand in hand. Andy grabbed hold of my other hand, making sure I wouldn't forget him.

I sat on the toilet and started undressing John.

"John, we need to get the poop out of your bum so it doesn't end up all over my fingers, right buddy?"

I saw Andy wrinkle up his nose at the mentioning of poop. John did too, but not as exaggerated as Andy.

"I don't feel like pooping," John told me.

"I kind of figured you wouldn't, but there are ways to make it happen anyway," I explained, "don't worry, I promise it won't hurt. You may even like it."

The way the little tyke had loved my fingers in his bum, I was sure the experience of having his bum slowly filled with temperate water wouldn't be uncomfortable for him. I just had to make sure not to put too much of it inside of him. I took off his clothes as I quietly went over the procedure with him, then helped him get into position on the changing pad, a position with his bum as far up in the air as possible.

On the top shelf above him was the enema kit I used on myself whenever I wanted to be fucked. It was a bag able to hold about two litres [~2 quarts] of saline water and a tube about 1.5 metres [~5 feet] in length and a 15 cm [~6 inches] long, somewhat thin nozzle. I had used it on Andy a few times too, at times when he was constipated. He didn't like it very much, but he knew it made him feel a whole lot better after the water had done its job.

I don't think John had ever had one before, though he didn't seem too fazed about it. He just lay there on the changing pad and kept a watchful eye on everything I did. I filled the bag about halfway up with temperate water and put in the right amount of pure sea salt, before I gave it a vigorous shake to have the salt mix with the water. I hung the bag from the top shelf about 50 cm [20 inches] higher than the top of John's buttocks.

Making sure he could still see what I was doing, I lubricated the thin nozzle and pointed out just how far inside his butt it would go. He looked relieved when he learnt it was only 5 cm [~2 inches] of the nozzle which would enter him.

I placed a small dollop of lubrication on his anus.

"Ready, buddy?"

He nodded and I gently pushed the nozzle into his opening, making sure I got the angle just right. I didn't want to hurt him, not now when he showed me this level of trust.

"Here it comes, just relax and let it slowly fill your tummy, buddy."

I opened the valve enough to get the water flowing, but at a very slow pace. I didn't want him to cramp up from the unfamiliar feeling of having his rectum and part of his colon filled with water. I kept praising him and caressed his little upturned bum cheeks while the water went inside. Kept informing him of just how much water remained in the bag. It took about ten minutes for all of the water to disappear into his body.

"You took it all, big boy," I praised him, "Now tighten up your bum hole when I pull out the nozzle. We don't want any of the water to escape."

I could feel his cheeks firm up as he did what I asked him to. I gently removed the nozzle and put the entire enema kit in the sink for later cleaning. John stayed in the same position, the only slight movement was his butt cheeks every so often relaxing for just a brief second before firming up again.

"Ten minutes like this then you can go potty," I told the quiet boy. He nodded affirmatively at me.

The ten minutes passed slowly by, I stayed with John all the way through, gently massaged his back, bum and the back of his thighs. Basically whatever I could reach in the position he was in. Andy had gotten bored after about two minutes and left for the somewhat more exciting TV.

"Yell for me when he gotta go," he told me as he left.

Andy however couldn't wait, he spent more time running back and forth between the bathroom and the TV than sitting in front of it, every time getting a negative reply to his question if John was ready. Why he was so excited about getting to see John sitting on the toilet I don't know. But he sure didn't want to miss it for the world.

"I think I really have to go now," John told me sounding a bit alarmed.

I checked the clock, he had retained the water inside of him for almost 12 minutes and I helped him over to the toilet. I carried him over to it, so he wouldn't strain down at the wrong time. I won't go into details of what happened as he sat there, I'm sure you can easily imagine it, without me having to paint a picture of it. He spent about 20 minutes emptying himself while I cleaned the enema kit and kept an eye on him.

Andy had come when I shouted for him, but soon left the bathroom again right after John let go.

I wiped John clean as he leaned forward on the toilet and he was finally ready for the main event.

All three of us went into my bedroom, John still quite naked, Andy and I fully dressed. I helped my son take his clothes off as John hopped up on my bed and sat watching us. When Andy was naked as well, I bundled up the two duvets on my bed and had John lie face down on top of them. I had gotten an idea when he was on the changing pad in the bathroom with his butt held high into the air.

"Dad, it's not fair me an' John are nekkid an' you're not," Andy interrupted my train of thoughts.

"I guess not, want to help me get my clothes off?"

I unsnapped my trousers button and allowed Andy to pull them down.

"I want to help too," John said from the bed as he stood up on it. I undid a few of the shirt buttons and John pulled it off my body, like had it been a jumper, by taking hold of the sleeves.

"Sit!" Andy commanded me like I was his dog and not his dad.

But I did sit down, by then my underwear had followed my trousers, bunched up around my ankles. While John stole my t-shirt, Andy removed the socks from my feet. Briskly my trousers and underwear followed the socks onto the floor. It was highly erotic being stripped by two eager young boys. My dick was certainly hard as a rock. Well, to be perfectly honest, it had been ever since I started undressing John in the bathroom.

Andy's little dicky was still flaccid, where John's was in the same state as mine. It Stuck straight up into the air as he stood there on the bed next to me.

"Come on, down you go, buddy," I told him as I rearranged the duvets.

I guess John could just as easily have gotten into the same position as he was on the changing pad with his lower legs flat on the pad, thighs at a 90 degree angle, stomach touching his thighs and head resting on one cheek on the pad. But, I wanted him to be more comfortable as my plans for him meant he had to stay for quite a bit longer in a kneeling position.

John got back down on top of the duvets, it pushed his little bum somewhat up, as they were under his groin and lower belly. His legs were spread out a little, his bum cheeks parted just enough for me to have an unobstructed view to his anus, the small gateway to the inner parts of his hot body.

"Andy, lie down in front of John. So he can suck on your dicky."

My son had crawled onto my bed and was on his hands and knees next to me, behind John.

"But I wanna see you stick your finger in!" he pouted.

"You won't be able to see anything yet, Tiger. So, just as I say, okay?"

"Aw, daddy. Okaaay."

He may have been pouting when he said that, but soon after I could hear the glee from him as I saw John started licking his dicky. I had some serious licking of my own to do. I knew John's rectum and probably a lot of his bowels had to be clear of anything foul and I've always been a huge fan of prolonged butt-licking. I love when the anus relaxes so much that I can push my tongue into it without much of an effort. And John was the perfect specimen for just that.

First and foremost, he actually enjoyed letting someone play with his butt. Secondly, he was completely hairless in the important places. Okay, there may have been some very short and fine hairs, but he was as hairless as anyone could be without shaving. Thirdly, he loved having me play with it. I'm not sure he understood just how much it meant to me, him allowing me to do those things to him and his butt. But he must have realized my fingers lingered for far longer between his cheeks than what was absolute necessary when I had bathed him long before I ever crossed the line with him.

Right then, as I got down on my belly behind the boy with the object of my desires so close by, I thought I had to be the luckiest guy on the planet. I placed my hands on his cheeks and gently spread them a little more. The skin on his butt cheeks formed little ridges of wrinkles as it narrowed to attach to the anus. The color changed ever so little from a lighter shade pink on his butt cheeks to a darker shade near the vertical slit in his butt hole.

As I lay there, just observing John's so very beautiful opening, mostly intended as a way to let waste out of his body, but also could be used for much more pleasurable things; I could hear the moans and giggles from my boy. I must have been lost in the sight of John's anus for a few minutes, but the boys were busy doing their own thing. I enjoyed the slight rippling movement of his butt cheeks as John brought pleasure and joy to my son. I blew air ever so gentle at his butt hole, watched it pucker up and both heard and saw John respond to the sensation of it.

Wanting to see his reaction to it, I blew much stronger at his anus, bringing my mouth closer as I did. His giggling intensified until it ended in uncontrolled laughter as my mouth connected to his butt hole and blew a raspberry at it. If I hadn't held onto his butt cheeks he would have launched himself away from my surprise attack on his vulnerable little bumhole.

His laughter died when I began lapping at his bumhole with my tongue. He didn't moan out loud, though he did emit small happy grunts.

I made out with the little boy in front of me. Switched from lapping to kissing, licking and probing with my tongue. All the while I enjoyed the feel of his firm, yet pliant sphincter slowly dilating under my constant attack, only to jerk back into being the tightest of all the muscles the boy had. Gradually his sphincter let itself be lured into relaxation by my love-making tongue, as if it was forgetting all about its most important job, to keep that opening closely shut by any means necessary until something had to pass through it from the inside.

Finally the muscle relented and allowed my tongue reasonably unobstructed access to the heavens waiting on just the other side of it. I wished for my tongue to grow longer, to be able to lick even deeper into John. To be able to reach his happy spot I knew was just a bit further inside of him. It was only inches away, maybe even just one, but it might as well have been on the moon. There was just no way I'd be able to massage it using the tip of my tongue. Reluctantly I removed my tongue from the bumhole I had spent so long to get to fully relax.

I moved my head back a little to have another look at the mysterious, almost fabled private spot of the boy kneeling in front of me. I watched his hole, yes for it was right then a hole, no longer just a slit in between tightly compressed skin. It was quivering a little, as if it was missing the loving feeling of my tongue in it. Yet, it stayed open. It wasn't gaping of course, it was slightly less than a quarter in size. A quarter that had been compressed a bit to make an oval.

I seriously considered to fuck this small boychild's butt raw right there and then. To not give a flying shit as to the consequences that would surely follow. I mean, John would probably have let me if I had asked him. But I came to my senses as I realized that although he might enjoy being fucked by me, he would be really sore afterwards. And with the boy having to leave for home in time for dinner, he'd probably be walking funny or at least fidget while sitting at the dinner table. His parents would for sure ask him what was wrong.

No, it'll just have to wait for a sleepover, but there's still room for having more fun.

After all, I had spent the better part of an hour getting his colon cleaned out.

"Andy?… Tiger, toss me the lube, it's on the night stand."

"You gonna stick your finger in now?" Andy asked with eagerness in his voice.

"Yes sir, I am."

"Can I do it, daddy? Can I John? Please!"

"You wanna play with my butt," John said happily, but surprised, "Sure!"

"I wanna!"

"I thought you didn't want to do that, tiger?" I asked as Andy happily bounced his way across my bed towards me.

"I don't want to if it's poopy," he explained as he sat down next to me, "there's no poop now, is there?"

"No poop at all, son."

"Cool. I wanna do it then. I gonna stick my finger in your bum. All of it, John."

"Just don't hurt me," John said.

"I won't."

I checked my son's fingers before I lubed one of them up for him. Particularly the state of his finger nails. I had finally gotten him to stop biting them not that long ago. It had been a hard battle with a lot of different approaches. Michelle and I had tried to tell him simply not to do it, he just stopped biting them when we could see, but kept doing so when he was alone or thought we wouldn't see. It was quite hard for him to hide the evidence though. We then tried using clear nail polish on his nails, but he just bit them anyway.

We tried some products specifically made for the purpose of getting kids to stop biting their nails. He didn't like the taste at all, but would lick his nails then spit out the sour tasting stuff. He'd do that until the taste wasn't too offensive for him and then he'd happily bite his nails again. And swallow the small pieces. Really nasty habit. I ended up borrowing a microscope from a friend of mine, then gently scraped a little of the stuff underneath his nails onto a little piece of glass. I let him see just what it is that lives there.

Andy, my poor boy, had bad dreams for a week, dreamt of giant monsters trying to eat him, but at least he never bit his nails again. It also did wonders to his handwashing. I guess that's pretty mean, but I don't think I caused any lasting damage to him.

Still, it meant I had to take a look at his nails to see if they were short and smooth enough not to cause damage to John's butt. Fortunately they were just fine, so I put a little lube on his index, then a small dollop right on John's anus.

"Okay, tiger. Push your finger slowly inside John's bum."

"Okay daddy," he said and practically jammed his finger to the hilt inside poor John.

"Ow!" John cried out, "Andy you little," and then he cut himself off.

"Sorry John, I didn't mean to," Andy said and quickly removed his finger.

I'm sure it hadn't hurt John all that much. Andy's index finger was quite small. He probably just had a good scare, having something jammed into his little ass like that. I told Andy he couldn't just jam his finger inside a bum like that. That he had to push it in really slow. Then showed him how with my own pinky.

I had to convince John's previously so accepting anus to open up again, it clearly didn't trust me not to do the same thing Andy had. But eventually I got my finger worked in without complaints from John. When I got him nice and loose, I let Andy have a go at it again.

He grinned at me as he slowly pushed his finger in and out. I showed him how to use two fingers, though I made a point of telling the boys never to do this without my supervision. I had John move back up on his knees as I removed the duvets from underneath him. Andy didn't let up on his finger fucking as I got myself situated underneath John. I started sucking John's dicky as Andy finger fucked him. After a minute I felt John's hands and then his mouth on my own dick. I reached my arm back, hoped I'd be able to stroke Andy's dick.

He was too far away, but when he saw my searching fingers, he moved himself within reach and let me fondle his small dick and balls. They were still slick from John's spittle from when he had licked and sucked Andy. This was what life was supposed to be like, all of the time. In bed with two little boys enjoying having sex. I was too busy looking at Andy's fingers going in and out of John's bum hole to keep track of how long we stayed on the bed that cold, rainy Thursday afternoon. Either Andy or I, maybe the both of us, really made John happy.

His licking and sucking of my dick, combined with his gentle fondling of my nuts brought me ever closer to the point of no return. I tried to fight it off, wanted to continue for another hour of making love to my two sweet boys. At the very least for another hour. I tried to force myself to spit out the little erection happily thrusting into my mouth and to stop my own hips from moving. I wanted to tell John to pause, if only for a few seconds, to prolong the happy feelings radiating from my dick head. I finally put my mind to it, but it was a moment too late.

I felt the first contraction of my ball sack. I felt slightly cheated, but then the orgasm hit me completely. I tried to warn John of the sperm that was about to shoot into his mouth, but it's hard to talk with something in your mouth. John kept sucking on my dick, even as I could feel my asshole tighten up rhythmically, about once every second. I know he must have realized something came out of my dick as I felt him swallow at least a few times.

Still, he kept sucking on my dick. When my dick became too sensitive for his little tongue rolling over it, I finally pushed up on the lithe boy and got out from underneath him.

"Thanks buddy," I told him, "but you've got to stop now."

He moved his mouth from my dick, looked at me and swallowed two more times.

"What happened?" He asked.

"You gave me the super tickles," I told him, trying to keep it to terms he'd understand.

"Did you pee in my mouth?"

"No buddy, I'd never do that," I promised.

Unless you'd want me to.

"It's just something that happens when men get their tickles," I went on, "They shoot sperm made inside their balls."

"I drank it, will it make me sick?" John sounded a little worried.

"Yuck! You drank the sperm?!" Andy exclaimed, "EWW!"

"Calm down, Tiger," I told Andy, then turned my attention back to John, "Buddy, you won't get sick from it. There's nothing bad in sperm."

Yeah, like you really wanted me to explain AIDS and other STDs to a seven year-old? I'd have that talk with the boys when they got older. Not right then, it was really more a matter of not having a kid throw up.

"It wasn't that bad, Andy," John said, "It tastes a little like your pee."

This statement made Andy blush and cast his eyes down.

"Hey tiger, it's okay, John isn't making fun of you."

"I know," he mumbled and hugged John.

I hugged both of my boys. One my son, the other my little friend with benefits. No, John was much more than that. I wasn't thinking of him as my lover, but he was really starting to be part of the household. If he wasn't present, both Andy and I would actually mope around, probably both of us thinking 'if only John was here, it would be so much more fun.' At least I had that thought more than a few times.

I really didn't want to end our sex that afternoon without the boys having an orgasm themselves, but they both told me they had gotten their fair share of the tickles while we had been playing. I scolded myself silently for not having noticed. There's not much more fulfilling in life than to witness a boy having a kiddy cum, a dry orgasm. Well, I can think of a few things, but it's quite an experience really.

After I had wiped the remaining lube off of John's butt and all three of us had washed our fingers, I poured three big glasses of Coca Cola. The boys really had earned themselves a little treat. They had probably worked off enough energy to justify the big intake of sugar, too.

Chapter 24
Andy, the new Lance Armstrong?

I do hope you understand that the sex the boys and I had, wasn't all we did together. It was in fact only a small fraction of what went on in, and around my house. It's just that I don't think you'd be too interested in all the other things a small family of two, sometimes, okay a lot of the time, three people did together. That's why I've left most of the more normal stuff out. But, I do want to write about cycling a little. No, not racing, Tour de France has just ended anyway.

Just the normal everyday bike-riding kids do. In Denmark it isn't just the kids who ride bikes. I know several people who lives in Copenhagen who doesn't own a car, but only have bicycles. It isn't a matter of not having the money to buy a car. It's just that having a car isn't needed. It's more of an inconvenience to have a car there, as there's a real shortage on parking spaces. And it's just so much easier for parents to be able to send their kids to school and sports on their bikes.

When they get old enough to safely ride on their own, of course. Andy, at age five, very soon to be six, wasn't old enough, far from it. But he loved riding his bike all the same anyway. There was however one problem, he still rode around using training wheels. I had tried a couple of times to teach him how to ride without, but he was terrified of losing his balance and crash.

"Daddy, I'll just fall and break my neck. Then I'll die and you'll be sad," he told me the last time I tried to convince him to get on his bike, after I had unbolted the training wheels.

He was stubborn. I think I've said that before. When he put his mind up to something, he was a tough nut to crack and made to think otherwise. Particularly if it was something he absolutely did not want to do. Instead of trying to teach a crying and scared boy how to ride properly, I had put the training wheels back on his bike. Fortunately John already knew how to ride a bike like a big boy. Every time the boys were out racing their bikes in our small relatively safe town street, John would win.

Well, he let Andy win from time to time, as that was just the kind of boy John was. Some of the time it was so obvious to me that he'd slow right down and let Andy pass him just a few meters before the finish line. A few times it was too obvious even for Andy to fail noticing it.

"Don't let me win John," he'd pout, "it's no fun if you do that."

Andy had a point but he was a sore loser. He wouldn't start crying, but he'd really get mad. At himself, not at John. If allowed to, he'd belittle himself to the point where he'd say the worse things about himself.

"I'll never get anything right."

"I'll never be a fireman, I'm just a baby that pisses himself every night!"

"No one will ever love me."

I could go on, but it breaks my heart just to write those examples. I could usually snap him out of it, but as he grew older, it became much harder to convince him that he was very smart. Intelligent really, and it wasn't his fault he was wetting his bed. How he could indeed grow up to be a firefighter if that was what he wanted to do. More importantly he was loved, always had been and always would be. No matter what he might do or not.

This time he was adamant of him never going to able to beat John fair and square. That he'd always have to be helped. And so on.

"Hey, Tiger… Andy, quiet. Listen to me," I tried.

"No, there's nothing I can do…"

"Andy, zip it, now!"

I really didn't like talking to my son like that. It wasn't often I had to, fortunately, not back then. But he did at least shut up. I sat down on the curb and had him sit next to me. John stood in front of us, with his bike between his legs.

"Now, Tiger. Do you know why John always wins?"

"Cuz I'm a loser."

"You're not a loser. It's only because of the training wheels," I said.

Andy looked at me like I was crazy.

"It is! You see, when John rides his bike, he can tilt it when he rides around a corner. It means he can ride a lot faster around corners than you can."

I checked the street for any cars approaching. There were none.

"John, can you ride around in a big circle?" I asked, "Just do it in front of us."

John nodded and set off. He rode his bike in two complete circles and then I asked him to pick up speed. As he did, he had to lean more and more over to his side to keep from making the circle any wider and end up on the sidewalk. I pointed it out to Andy.

"You can't do that with the training wheels on your bike," I ended my explanation and told John he could stop pedaling around if he wanted.

"Then I don't want those stupid training wheels no more," my son said and went over to his bike and kicked at the nearest of them.

Okay, Andy was stubborn and smart, but I could still outsmart him and turn his stubbornness into something which would work for both of us. I simply had to use logic or science to get my point across. As it was, I had to quickly get the bike out of Andy's reach since he was really kicking the crap out of that training wheel. They are quite sturdy but really can't take a boy kicking at and jumping on it. Andy's intention was very clear, he wanted those training wheels off his bike, even if he had to destroy the bike in the process.

A quick five minutes later with the use of a wrench, I got the training wheels off Andy's bike. I had originally planned to sell or pass them on to someone else who'd need them, but they weren't salvageable. Not after the damage Andy had caused to one of them. They went into the bin I had for metal stuff going to be recycled.

When Andy saw his bike with no training wheels on it, reality suddenly kicked in.

"Daddy, I don't know how to ride my bike now," he said worriedly.

I thought back to how I was taught to ride a bike without training wheels. My dad had taken the stick from an old sweeper and installed it on my bike. It was tied to the back of the saddle and went down to the crank, where the pedals connects to the frame of the bike. There it was just jammed in and sat tight. He could then help me keep my balance, although it wasn't easy the first few times we did it. I did take some falls, particularly when turning.

I'd lean over far too much for my dad to hold me upright and I'd tumble off the bike. That's probably why we always practiced on a lawn before we moved onto riding on sidewalks and eventually the tarmac of the streets. My backyard just wasn't large enough to have a kid learning how to ride a bike. So I got both boys into the back of the Volvo, bikes in the trunk along with an old broom. And off we went to the soccer field at the school where the boys would eventually be enrolled.

It was a sunny spring day, not really warm but not freezing cold either. The grass in the field had been mowed not long before we got there, so conditions were great.

John rode his bike from the carpark and Andy ran after him pushing his bike next to him. I followed at a more civilized pace with the broomstick and a length of steel wire. It had probably been easier to get the broomstick mounted on the bike at home in my garage, but it's always easy to be smart in hindsight.

At least the kids were occupied, while I did my best to get the damned broomstick to stay where I wanted it, while I tried to keep the bike upright and then get the steel wire wrapped tightly around. In the end I was finally satisfied with the stick being unable to break free. I called for Andy, who was running after John riding his bike in the field.

"Don't let me fall daddy," Andy said before he got onto his bike.

His fears were soon forgotten as he thought it extremely funny to make his old man run like a slave pushing his master around the field.

"Faster daddy, faster!" He yelled when I was already running as fast as I could.

I wasn't in real bad shape, but smoking cigarettes daily, and far too many really, had me puffing for air far sooner than I really care to admit.

"Use the pedals, Andy," John shouted as he zoomed past us for the umpteenth time, "That's it."

When I thought Andy was getting the hang of it, I let go of the broomstick. I kept my hand close, fingers at the ready to grab hold of it again if he'd start to tip to either side. He managed to ride for about 10 meters [~30 feet] on his own. Then I had to grab hold and help him find the balance again. Andy never knew I let him ride without help. When I finally had to sit for a while to slow my racing heart and sort out my lungs, John took over for me.

He wasn't tall enough to hold on to the broomstick as I had, of course, so he held onto the carrier on the back of the bike as he pushed and steadied Andy who was laughing his little head off. I sat there on a bench overlooking the field and watched the boys. I could smell the freshly mowed grass and hear the sounds of laughter from the boys. Enjoyed the rays from the sun that even this early in spring actually felt warm. Through my half closed eyelids, I saw Andy veer off to the left.

John was doing the best he could to hold Andy upright and prevent him from crashing, though it was a losing fight for the young boy. Riding in an ever narrowing circle, Andy finally turned the handlebars a little too far and was sent flying off the bike. Since the bike no longer had a rider, it quickly fell over taking John down along with it. I heard the high-pitched squeals from first Andy and immediately afterwards John joined in. Before I could get to my feet, a cackling laughter reached my ears.

The laughter was contagious and I had to join in with a few chuckles of my own. Slowly, Andy turned over to lie on his back and propped his head up.

"Did you see, daddy?" his voice reached my ears, "Did you see me?"

"I saw you."

"That was the worst crash ever!" he bubbled.

"I think it's right up there on the list," I agreed, not wanting to spoil my son's mood.

"It was the best!" John chipped in.

Fortunately this small crash didn't make Andy scared of riding his bike without the training wheels. He got right back in the saddle, this time with me guiding him. He didn't learn how to ride without help that day, my condition was simply not up to the task.

But he did eventually learn by practicing for an hour every day. There were plenty more crashes of course, nevertheless Andy never quit or even expressed the wish to do so.

It wasn't all that long until I let go of the broomstick for the final time. When I let go of the stick and stopped running, Andy didn't notice it until he had gotten at least 30 meters [~100 feet] away from me.

"Daddy! I'm doing it. I'm riding my bike!" He yelled with glee after he had looked over his shoulder.

It filled me with joy and pride to see my son happily pedaling further and further away from me. Oh, he did eventually return to me, it isn't as if he just kept pedaling into the sunset never to be seen again.

Chapter 25
Summer, preschool and school

Andy turned six, spring turned into summer and before I knew it, school let out. Over the year, Michelle and I had saved some money for a 14 days long camping trip. We rented a caravan and hitched it up to my old Volvo. I prayed for it being up to the task of hauling around 1400 pounds without breaking down in a huge cloud of steam or worse. Lyle had helped me prepare the car and told me there should be no problems, but it sure wasn't getting any younger.

Andy was thrilled, he thought it was really cool to have our temporary home follow us around wherever we'd go. He was also thrilled of not sitting alone in the backseat of the car. Behind me sat none other than John. It had taken quite a lot of pleading from John and Andy to convince Lyle and Cheryl they should allow John to come with us. Lyle and Cheryl had asked us more than once if it was okay. Lyle didn't look too pleased with the idea of not seeing his son for a whole two weeks.

In the end, Michelle pointed out a few convincing facts. First of all, the boys had a long summer break. John's even longer than Andy's. John had been attending preschool the previous year and would start first grade after the summer. It meant he had seven long weeks of nothing to do. Andy could at least still go to the nursery school for most of the weeks, if we had wanted or needed him to. Cheryl had only three weeks of summer vacation time. Lyle had even less, as he was now the owner of the repair shop.

If he took too many days off, it would seriously impact his income. So we'd get John out of their hair for two weeks, making sure he would have a very nice time. And they would still be able to go on a holiday with their family intact as we (Michelle and I) made sure our trip was taking place while Cheryl would still be working. We even offered to take Jane with us so they could have some time to themselves. Cheryl didn't want that at all, though.

"Lyle spends so much time at the repair shop, I'll be all alone for too long. No, Jane stays at home!"

Finally they caved in, however they insisted on having John talk to them every evening on Live Messenger. That wasn't a problem, I was going to bring my laptop on the trip anyway just in case anything happened at work that would require my attention. Oh, it wasn't as if I was the only option if a server would crash, but I liked being in control. Even if we had service contracts on the most important servers, I didn't like leaving it in the hands of outsiders to get the servers back up and running.

I brought the laptop with me on the trip so I could hook up to the company network if needed. Though it turned out I never had to, John was able to sit and talk to his parents using the instant messaging software every night as agreed.

We went to Jutland on the west coast of Denmark, where there are some amazing beaches and caravan sites. We brought a small tent where the boys could sleep right next to the caravan, if they wanted to. Michelle and I slept in the caravan, well, we used it for other bed activities too. Yes, I'm gay, but I still had sex with Michelle. It wasn't too different pleasing her from what I did with Henry growing up, though I did fuck her. I'm sure she had no idea of me really thinking about having sex with our son or John while I entertained her.

Having sex with either of the boys on that trip just wasn't a possibility at all. I did volunteer to take Andy to the family bathroom at the caravan sites to get him cleaned up after his nightly wetting, something that had yet to let up at the time. Andy was by then old enough to bathe on his own, but fully enjoyed it when I'd bathe him. At Michelle's house he'd bathe on his own, at mine, the honors of washing his little boy body fell to me. I don't think Michelle knew I still bathed him, but it wasn't exactly a secret.

The two weeks we spent vacationing was pretty much like any other normal family vacation. We spent the mornings after breakfast splashing in the sea. Michelle would be working on her tan, while I rested in the shade of a beach parasol keeping an eye on the boys. Both the two we had brought with us, and the other small boys who happened to be at the beach. I also made sure Andy and John was well protected by a healthy amount of sunblock.

Oh, they complained about it, but I simply told them if they weren't covered in sunblock then they'd be stuck with me under the parasol. I didn't want them to experience what I had in Pula when I was 11. Since Denmark is so much further to the north, the sun isn't as brutal as in the southern parts of Europe; though it'll still burn you, it just takes a little longer.

We'd have lunch in the caravan, cutting back a bit on the expenses by making it ourselves. It was the typical Danish lunch consisting of rye bread with a fine layer of butter and various toppings. It could be either salami, liver p�t� (which the boys loved, yes it's an acquired taste, but actually quite nice), sliced chicken breast and a whole range of other things. Even fruit toppings like fig, which I hate. I guess I've still got a bit of a picky eater left in me.

In the afternoons, when it was too hot to do anything outside, we went to museums, visited farms and did other cultural learning activities. We'd have dinner wherever we happened to be close by at that time. Small inns, restaurants, pizzerias and yes even the annoying family restaurant that caters so much to children. While their burgers are good, you only have to belch once and you'll be hungry again. I stupidly said that just before we went inside, which to Michelle's dismay the boys took on as a challenge.

They both had large sodas with their meals and before we left they had a refill. For the next thirty minutes they had a competition of who could make their belches last the longest and sound the highest. They were actually quite impressing, to me that is.

"If you don't stop making those disgusting sounds, you'll be walking back to the caravan site!" Michelle informed the boys.

We were on a busy country road about 25 km [~15 miles] from the site, and fortunately the boys listened to Michelle. At least until I had parked the car next to the caravan. As soon as the boys were outside, Andy let loose with one of the longest burps I've ever heard in my life.

"Sorry, mom," he looked sheepishly at Michelle, "But I couldn't hold it longer."

The boys went to the toilet building and while they were gone I told Michelle she should be happy.

"Why?" she asked me.

"The trapped gasses could just as easily have found another way out of the boys."

"Damn, Teddy. You're just as awful as them at times!"

When the boys rejoined us, John talked to his parents on the laptop in one end of the caravan while the rest of us played 'go fish'. We'd play different games with the boys, until I'd help Andy into his disposable diaper and they were sent off to their tent to sleep. Michelle and I would talk a little, I'd check my emails, and she would read magazines or do crosswords puzzles. Sometimes we'd watch a movie on the TV while lying in bed.

And most nights just before going to sleep, she'd want me to jump her bones. I think she had more sex in those 14 days than the rest of the year combined. I'm not really complaining as she also quite enjoyed anal sex, which really isn't too different from fucking a guy. Her moans were maybe slightly more high-pitched and her hips a bit wider.

So, why didn't I just marry Michelle, you may be wondering? I could have proposed to her and she'd probably say yes. But in all fairness, it just wouldn't have worked. I loved Michelle as a very dear friend and as the mother of my only child. But, I'd never be able to be her husband. How could I be her husband when all I really wanted was a husband of my own? I'd always be on the lookout for guys to either fuck or get fucked by. So no, while the thought had crossed my mind, it just wasn't realistic to propose to her.

***

After the trip, the summer seemed to pass by so quickly. All of a sudden it was the last Friday before Andy was to start his one year of preschool. John would start the first grade. Both boys would be in the same wing in the public school, so they'd be able to play with each other during recess if they wanted to. It was a major event for both of them. I knew the transition from nursery school to preschool would be the hardest, even if the teachers had done what they could to prepare the kids for the "real" school.

John was able to explain a lot to Andy and Michelle and I would be there for some of the time that first day anyway. I was quite a bit apprehensive of Andy starting school. He would be one of the smallest boys in his class, heck, he'd be one of the smallest kids there. A lot of the girls were taller than him.

I hoped for the same level of comradery in his class as I had experienced in mine. Yes, I can still remember the time when Thomas tried to out me in front of the entire class and how the rest of my class mates just had ridiculed him.

However, I had been not only one of the older kids in my class, but actually the oldest, and I didn't have the same problems with bedwetting as Andy had. Though I had been held back a year before I started school, it had been due to me having day time accidents, somewhat messier ones than simply wetting my pants. But I stopped wearing diapers when I was about 4 or so. Andy still wore his night diapers at age 6, and needed them every night.

Andy didn't complain about having to wear a diaper at night, apart from when he'd get mad at himself. But not when he was his usual happy self. I just wasn't sure of what would happen if and when he was invited to a sleepover. Kids can be so bloody mean to each other particularly if they can single someone out for being different in some way or another, like being gay, having a "wrong" hair color, or wearing the wrong brand of clothes. Or being a bedwetter.

I had done some research on the topic of bedwetting and most of the results said not to put any kind of pressure on the child until he or she complained about it. I wasn't sure if Andy calling himself a baby during his tantrums lived up to that requirement and Michelle was no help at all, not regarding this.

"As long as Andy is happy, I'm happy," she'd say, "I don't mind checking if he put on his diaper before he goes to bed."

At her house he had started to put on his cloth diaper and plastic pants himself, even bathed on his own. At mine, we both still quite enjoyed our routines in the evenings. He was still small enough to lie on the changing pad, but I had to find diapers larger than the overnights he had been using. We tried some pull-up style diapers, but after he had leaked during the night in one of them, he refused to wear any kind of pullups any more.

"I don't care, daddy! It gotta be like mom's or real diapers!" He told me.

I still didn't want to use cloth diapers. Even if you can get some with a disposable liner you throw away after use, it still meant more for me to wash. I had to pay some extra money to make the move from toddler diapers to youth diapers, but it really wasn't much. Only like 5-6 kr [~$1] per night. The new diapers didn't come with the cute designs, but Andy didn't care about what his diapers looked like, he cared about their ability to hold him dry at night.

And he was happy with the new diapers I bought. They were a much better fit and felt dry to him even when he woke up wet in the mornings. It made me happy too, since he no longer immediately upon rousing came running to me demanding to get cleaned up.

I was however still worried about other kids finding out about his bedwetting. As it turned out I really should have been worrying about other things.

***

School started and all of us soon settled into the new routines that followed. Andy was usually good for a story about the things he had learned in school during the day, when I picked him up from the afterschool care center. Or he'd tell me what xx or yy had done (Put in any name substituting xx and yy yourself, they were 22 kids in his class and I just couldn't keep up with who was who). He was happy and so was John. The two of them still played with each other all the time they could.

I'm fairly sure they were also still playing with each other intimately, though I wasn't invited to join them. Ever since that one time, when John swallowed my sperm like it was nothing but milk and only afterwards had asked what it was, sex with the boys had been on a standstill. I could only live high on the sex I had with Michelle when we had been vacationing for so long.

Which meant, I was back to searching for young guys on the Internet. Mostly my searching ended up jerking to porn after I had browsed profiles and pictures, though I'd send messages to those I found interesting.

Most of my messages would go unanswered, some of the teens and early twenties guys would check out my profile and then just leave me hanging. A few would send me a reply, mostly saying I was too old. One or two seemed interested in me and we'd start writing back and forth, but when the time came for meeting in real life, they'd suddenly lose interest.

Just when I started thinking I'd forever be doomed to play with myself, I got a message from someone I couldn't remember writing to.

Are you one of those guys who do hooks up

Without checking the profile of the guy who had sent me the message I sent a reply.

Well it happens, but not nearly often enough.

A few minutes went by. Then he wrote back.

Will you meet me today

That day, when I had logged onto the site, the most popular dating site for GLBT people in Denmark, I hadn't expected or even hoped to find anyone to write with and certainly not to hook up with. Not the very same day or night either. However, Andy was at Michelle's and it was only late afternoon. Before I wrote a reply I had a look at his profile to see what he had written about himself. It didn't say much really. He had chosen a fairly obscure username and his profile text was really quite short.

Boy 15 years old looking for hookups and fun. Virgin.

That was it.

The site required you to put in certain personal details too, and he had listed his age as 15 years, as he had written in the profile text. He had just put in the name of his home county as location. But it was the same I lived in. He had described his body built as heavy-set.

Most people who chose to describe themselves as heavy-set were, politically correctly speaking, real troubled by gravity and a slow metabolism. Not so politically correct, basically obese or fat. But hey, he was a boy! Age of consent in Denmark is 15 years and he had written he was 15. So I quickly wrote back to him.

Yes, I want to meet you. Where do you want me to pick you up and what do you want to do?

Not sure never had sex. just want something good. you know the aldi supermarket in haslev

Yeah, I know that supermarket. I can be there in about an hour.

cool. what car do you have

I told him the color, make and model of my car, and quickly went to have a shower and rinsed out my arse. Hey, you never know what something like that might end up in and I like to be prepared for anything. The supermarket was about half an hour's drive from my home, so I didn't have too much time to linger about in. I grabbed a towel, lube and condoms and put them in a carrier bag.

I arrived at the parking lot of the Aldi market a couple of minutes early.

As I waited, I had a look around from inside the car. It was close to 6 PM and there weren't many out for shopping. Most people were probably either having dinner or getting ready for it. I couldn't see any fat 15 year-old boys on their own. In fact, there were no lone kids or teens at all. I decided to wait for fifteen minutes before I'd head on home, most likely cussing at myself for letting yet another bastard trick me into wasting both time and money on gas.

Then I happened to look in the rearview mirror. I saw a kid with a blonde crew cut. He looked much younger to me than 15, besides, he didn't look fat at all, just slightly overweight. I ignored him and kept looking for the teen I was expecting. My heart skipped a beat or two when suddenly the passenger door opened and the kid I had seen in the mirror plopped himself into the car seat next to me.

"Hi," he chirped.

Yes, chirped, his voice hadn't even broken yet. Still, he buckled himself in and I thought it best to start the car and just get the heck out of that parking lot before someone who knew me, or even worse knew the kid, noticed him in my car.

"Hey there, uh, what's your name?" I asked as I maneuvered the car out of the lot.

"I'm Anthony, and you're Teddy, right?" he said in that high-pitched prepubescent voice of his.

Damn, you should be singing in a boys' choir.

Well, he could have, with proper training of course.

I nodded at him, while trying to think of a place where no one would be and still within a reasonable distance.

"So, you never had sex?" I asked him.

"No, but I've wanted to for years. Now is the time," he said with a little tremor in his voice.

"Are you nervous?"

"A little, but really excited too."

"Don't worry dude, we'll only do the things you want. If we do anything you decide you don't like, just say so and we'll find something else to do. Okay?"

"Cool. Where are we going?"

"There's a small forest nearby, I think we can be alone there," I explained.

"Oh you mean the one over there?" he asked and pointed towards the north-east.

He told me he knew of a few places where nobody ever really went and one of the places was inside the forest I had seen on an online map of the area. He was the navigator for the short drive to the forest and directed me up a forest road. No, it would be giving the track way too much credit to call it a road. I was just so happy it hadn't rained for some time, otherwise I would've needed a four-wheel-drive car and not the rear-wheel-drive Volvo estate that hardly had any grip on the rear wheels.

It was really just two parallel strips of dirt with a semi-high growth of grass and weeds growing in the middle. Looking back I was lucky there weren't any big rocks in the middle of the track, as I really wouldn't have been able to see them until I'd run into them. We made it up this rather steep but short slope and saw a small lay by. This track was probably used by foresters when they cut down trees and whatnot.

At the time there were however only myself and my new wanted-to-be-15-but-more-likely-was-12 friend, Anthony.

I got out of the car and quickly put the backseats down, making for a 2 meters [~6 feet and 6 inches] long and about 1.2 meters [~4 feet] wide space. Anthony left his shoes outside the car before he climbed in through the door and got somewhat comfortable. I joined him and before I got to do much, Anthony launched himself onto me and immediately started to kiss me. Aggressively, too. He really pushed his lips towards mine with no regards to being careful.

I let him have his way with me for a few minutes until my lips began hurting too much. I had to grab his head and force him to back off just a little. I didn't want to end the kiss, I just wanted to kiss a little more tenderly. I guess he just was truly horny. I mean, who wouldn't be if they had wanted sex for years and then finally were able to have it? When he seemed to grasp that kissing wasn't a matter of grinding lips against teeth, I let my hands wander down his body.

He had on a hoodie sweatshirt, with nothing underneath it. Just his little potbelly so enjoyably hairless. I could feel his boner inside his jeans and when I finally got access to it I just knew he couldn't possibly be fifteen years old.

Like I've ever had any doubts after I first saw him in my rearview mirror.

His erect dick couldn't have been much more than 10 cm [~4 inches] long and was still marker-sized slim. His pubes had only very recently started growing and were downy soft. So he was a boy, who had only very recently started puberty, not halfway through as most 15 year-olds would be.

The boy lover in me was thrilled. Anthony knew what he wanted, even if he was much too young to be legal, and he sure wasn't afraid of showing it. He wasn't holding back neither in action nor sound. He moaned into my mouth as I rubbed his dick and petted his still hairless ball sack with two very small nuts in it while I french-kissed with him. Suddenly he froze.

"There's someone coming!" he alerted me.

OH FUCK!

"Get down as flat as you can," I told him.

I had a look out the back window, and he was right. There was indeed someone approaching my car. There were two of them, one on top of the other. The latter had four legs, and the first only two. I don't know how old the woman on the horse was, but she just passed my car without stopping.

Thank you God for the invention of tinted windows.

I had spent the better part of a day carefully putting silvery window film on the rear windows, making it quite hard for anyone to look in from the outside. But the windshield and the windows in the front doors weren't tinted due to the law here. So if the lady had looked back over her shoulder and into the car, she would have seen a man with flushing cheeks and a young boy with his pants down in the back of the car. I don't know why she didn't.

I certainly would have been curious as to why a car would be parked there. With a pair of sneakers size 7� sitting on the ground at one of the rear doors. When the horse and its rider was out of sight, I asked Anthony to put his shoes inside the car. He had left them outside so they wouldn't make a mess on the upholstery!

"That's very considerate of you, but this car is bloody old. And with my son messing it up all of the time, you don't have to worry about a thing." I told him.

"You have a son?"

"Yeah, he's six."

"Oh."

With that said, I leaned over him and took his dick in my mouth. It tasted a bit of soap, which really is a crime against man, at least against the man who has to suck on it. I got it wet with spittle then used the towel to wipe it off. It got rid of most of the disgusting flavor. I mean, if I had wanted that taste, I could have just sucked on a bar of soap. But I got back to it and sucked his dick while he tenderly stroked my hair. When he came, I thought he had fired blanks at first.

"Oh shit, that tickled like crazy at the end," Anthony said and stroked his dick a little, then excitedly asked "is that sperm?"

A small drop of clear fluid had amassed at his pee slit. Instead of just saying yes, I licked it into my mouth.

"Yeah, that's sperm," I smiled at him.

Well, it was seminal fluid really, I doubt there were any sperm cells in it. But a little white lie was better than to let the boy down. He laughed at me for having a taste of his "sperm". He was still horny and wanted to make me cum too. His dick hadn't lost any of its firmness and I pulled down my pants and boxer briefs.

He started wanking my dick and I could tell he was trying to decide whether or not he wanted to put it in his mouth.

"You don't have to suck on it, if you don't want to."

I guess that was all the reassurance he needed as he dived onto my dick like a calf nursing on its mother. It wasn't the best blowjob I had gotten, but he did fairly well considering it was his first time. With some guidance he managed to get me off. He didn't want my sperm in his mouth, which reminded me so much of Andy. He jacked me off the rest of the way, but that was okay with me. I just used the towel to wipe up the mess.

Afterwards, When we had reached the location, at which he wanted me to drop him off, he kissed me again. I mean, really kissed me. I was getting a little worried of him wanting to do more stuff, as it wasn't a very safe place. It was a little enclosed parking lot, but anyone could have walked by and clearly seen us. After about five minutes he pulled back and thanked me. He left the car and when he got about 10 meters [~30 feet] away from me he turned and waved before resuming his walk.

When I got home, he was online on the website. There was a message waiting for me.

thank you teddy. i had a really good time. i'm just afraid you won't meet me again. :'(

Hi Anthony. I really enjoyed it too. Why wouldn't I want to see you again, you're a great kid :-)

Well, i'm really only 13, not 15. Sorry for lying to you.

I knew you weren't 15 when you got into my car. I don't mind. As long as it stays between you and me.

He promised to keep it a secret, then gave me his messenger ID and actually deleted his profile on the website. Like he told me, since he had found what he was looking for, there was no reason for him to have a profile anymore. Instead, we started chatting on messenger, pretty much every day, mostly in the late evenings after Andy had been tucked in for the night.

Well, uh, we didn't exactly keep it to just chatting, I had cybersex with Anthony too. It was after all much more rewarding to jerk off with him on webcam than it was to just wank while watching movie clips of two guys fucking each other.

Chapter 26
No way, Anthony!

Anthony was a real booster to my otherwise rather bland sex life. Andy and John still didn't invite me to have fun with them and I didn't want to intrude on them. Michelle had finally found a guy who'd fuck her regularly, making sex with me redundant, but when I asked her if she thought it would turn into something serious she shrugged it off.

"Nah, he doesn't want to marry someone with a child already," she said, "So we're only having fun. You know?"

"Yeah, I know. It isn't easy for me to find someone either. I mean, I'm gay and don't have the body of an Olympic athlete nor am I hung like a horse," I replied, "and having Andy around doesn't exactly help either.

"But I'd never want to live my life without him!" I added after taking a breath, "I really love the kid to bits."

"Sometimes I can't help but wonder what it would be like to have a loving husband and not be a single part time mother."

I didn't want to discuss the matter further. I don't remember what we ended up talking about, but I left her house about ten minutes later. It was rather late in the evening that Friday, I had only stopped by to drop off Andy's schoolbag, which he had forgotten at my place.

While I walked the short distance home, I thought of the conversation we had about us wanting to be full time parents and not have to share Andy between us. I really meant the part about not wanting to live without him. If she was going to try changing our agreement into something where she'd get him more of the time, I'd do anything to prevent that from happening. Well, within the confinements of the law, of course.

When I sat down in front of my computer and logged onto Live Messenger, I had a message waiting. Actually a whole string of messages, all of them from Anthony. The first one had been sent shortly after 2 PM the same day.

2:04 PM: I'm home from school. Wanna meet?

2:39 PM: YO! r u there?

3:25 PM: Come on, I'm fucking horny!

4:42 PM: Shit!

5:54 PM: I'm going 2 eat dinner now let's meet after

7:19 PM: TEDDY! pleeeeeeaaaaaase.

8:50 PM: FUCK U TEDDY!

8:51 PM: Sorry, I didn't mean that! I just want 2 meet u so bad.

As I read those messages, another one arrived.

9:39 PM: Finally! Come on let's meet I want 2 fuck!

I considered my options. I actually wasn't in the mood to be with Anthony that evening since it was already so late and I had been up since 5 in the morning.

Hi Anthony. Sorry for not seeing your messages until now. I hate to say no, but I'm really tired now. Can we meet tomorrow instead?

Well, it was worth trying at least.

9:42 PM: I'm going 2 party tomorrow. So I can't c u then. I want 2 FUCK 2NIGHT!

My relationship with Anthony had progressed a bit from sucking. Last time we had finger fucked each other in a 69 position. It had been great, although kind of messy for me. I had to wash the towel immediately when I had come home after. I was trying to find the words to make Anthony understand I really wanted to fuck him or be fucked by his skinny dick, just not that very night, when another message arrived. He sure could type at an amazing speed.

9:43 PM: I've cleaned my ass this time. Like u told me how to. Come on. I'm hungry 4 ur cock

But Anthony I'm not hungry for your ass tonight. I love your ass, I'd love to fuck it, but I desperately need some sleep. Please understand.

I was really regretting logging onto Messenger at that point. Even more so, when the next message arrived.

9:46 PM: I'll tell my brother and sister all about u if ur not at the parking lot in 1 hour

Mixed emotions flew through my body. First fear, then anger and a lot of regret. Thoughts of losing everything I had popped into my mind. The sudden rush of adrenaline pushed aside all tiredness I had felt up to that point and I quickly sent him a reply.

Anthony, I'll be there in 1 hour.

I powered off my computer and took a short shower, before I drove towards the parking lot. The sun had set when I arrived. The lot was deserted, save for Anthony who was standing under a street lamp. He quickly got himself buckled in and I drove towards our secret make out spot. I didn't say anything to him during the ten minute drive. Before I had a chance to turn off the engine, Anthony climbed between the front seats into the back of the car. I had put the seats down before I left home.

He was already pulling off his jeans and underwear when I joined him.

"I really missed you Teddy," he said in his sweet voice, like he hadn't threatened me to show up that evening.

"I'm here now. But, I'm quite frankly pissed off with you right now."

"Sorry, I'd truly never say anything to anyone. I just really wanted to see you," he said.

Like that makes everything okay.

"I should spank the crap out of your ass for pulling a stunt like that."

"Ooh, kinky! No thanks though, I'm not into pain."

"It wouldn't be much of a punishment if you got off from it."

I took off my slacks and boxer briefs. My dick was flaccid, even if I was in the presence of a horny thirteen years old boy. I guess it didn't want to fuck the kid that night. Anthony tried to coerce some stiffness into my dick by wanking it, then sucking on it. It didn't really work.

"How about you fuck me?" I suggested.

I didn't need a hardon for him to fuck me and I thought if he fucked me I might get into the right mood. I rolled onto my stomach and searched for the bag where I had the lube and towel. I'm not sure if Anthony was just too horny to wait or misunderstood my intentions. All I know is he got on top of me and immediately tried to fuck his dick into my asshole.

"Wait dammit!" I tried to stop him, "Ow!"

My asshole felt like it was on fire as his dick penetrated me. It might have been slim, I certainly had been fucked by larger cocks as well as sex toys, but this was the first time I had ever been dry-penetrated. Anthony didn't stop until he couldn't push any more of his dick inside me. I blamed the porn so easily accessible on the Internet, as Anthony clearly copied what he had seen. If his dick had been larger, I'm sure my sphincter would have taken damage. Luckily it didn't take too long for the small amount of natural juices inside my ass to lubricate Anthony's dick.

He kept stabbing his dick into my ass in short violent thrusts. I could hear him moan and gasp for breath on top of me. My hips and pelvis was rhythmically being crushed in between his body and the carpeted floor in the back of my Volvo.

Apart from the rough start, I quite enjoyed letting Anthony have his way with me, though his slim and short dick moving in and out of my ass didn't really do much for me, you know, sexually. I'd never be able to orgasm from that alone, but it was quite stimulating to let a young boy use me as he pleased.

I wanted to enhance his first fuck and begun working with him instead of just lying there passively. I met his downward movements by pushing back up against him. Squeezed my anus tight as he pulled most of his dick out of me. Then relaxed it a little when he'd push back into me. It wasn't easy to match his speed but he didn't complain. He just kept fucking me at high speed, not really bothering to slow down to delay his orgasm.

I guess at his age, it wasn't so important to make sex last as long as possible. When I now think back to when I was thirteen years old, I remember myself being almost persistently horny. My personal record of wanking myself to orgasm was twelve times in one day. My dick was quite sore at the end of the day, but that didn't prevent me from pumping a couple of weak oozing drops of sperm out my dick. Now, I pretty much consider myself lucky if I can orgasm twelve times in a week.

Anthony pushed into me one last time before rolling himself off my body and came to rest on his back. My dick had changed its mind sometime during the rabbit-fucking I had been subjected to and was quite ready for some action. I got onto my side and had a look at the boy panting in front me.

"Say, you still want to be fucked?"

Anthony replied by turning over to lie on his stomach. Even reached back with both hands and spread his buttocks.

"No, I don't want to fuck you like that."

I put on my shoes, then got out of the car, halfway naked. I had on a jumper, my shoes and socks. Our new secret make-out location was at an abandoned old rundown factory. The factory itself was located at the very end of a long street in an industrial area of the town. Anthony had assured me no one ever came there, and certainly never on a Friday evening about to turn into night. So I had no worries of anyone seeing me fucking around with an underage kid.

"Lay on your knees and push your ass out the door," I told Anthony.

It took a little bit of adjusting his position inside the car, but we finally managed to get him positioned just right. He rested on his knees, his lower legs and feet were hanging in the free air outside the car. His back was parallel to the floor in the car where his hands were firmly planted. His butt protruded out of the car just enough for me to be able to stand upright behind it. I lubed up his ass and my dick, quickly dumping the idea of getting payback for his dry assault on my backdoor.

I fucked his ass using first one then two fingers. All the time asking if he was doing okay. I wanted to be certain I wasn't harming him, still worried about him telling anyone about our relationship. When my two fingers were sliding in and out of the boy without noteworthy resistance it was time for the main event. With a few final strokes of my dick, just for good measure, I pushed it into the boy. All the way, without delay. As Anthony had begged me to do ever since I started loosening him up with my fingers.

I was still quite cautious, even if he begged for me to brutally fuck him. He was after all only thirteen years old. Even so, I did lay fairly heavy into him once I was certain his ass was relaxed enough for some rougher action. As I was standing and holding onto the boy by his hips, I was able to really fuck him hard. My hips collided with his butt checks with a slapping sound and I'd drag him towards me on the instroke. Then push him away on the outstroke.

Variating the speed and intensity of the fuck, I made sure his first time as a bottom would be one he'd remember. I'd pummel him for about a minute, then go super slow for about the same amount of time. As I did that the third or fourth time, I had a look around. Apart from the moon shining its light down on me, there were no lights in sight. A slight breeze made my butt and lower legs feel really cold, but that only enhanced the heat in front.

When I had fucked the boy for a time, probably around fifteen minutes, I was about done. I settled into a nice intermediate speed I knew would take me over the brim fairly quickly. At the end, my cum splattered the insides of the kid. Yeah, we didn't use condoms, as Anthony had told me he didn't want to use "those things" with me. When I pulled my wilting dick out of his hot asshole, the cold air hit it like someone had dropped a bucket of icy water onto it.

I quickly got into the car behind the wheel and started the engine and adjusted the heater to max before having Anthony pass me my underwear and slacks. We had a cigarette before leaving the factory lot. The windows were completely misted over from the hot sex we had just had. When I got back home, I went straight to bed. I was dead tired and was almost sleeping before my head even hit the pillow.

As the weeks passed and eventually months too, I met with Anthony for sex in my car a couple of times during the weeks when Andy was with his mom. Of course, he also tried to get me to meet him even when I had Andy.

Just leave him home alone. He'll never know u were gone!

That's how he'd write to me on Messenger. Like Andy was just a pet that could be left at home to fend for himself. Sure, around 90% of the time, Andy would sleep like a log from the time I tucked him in until he'd wake up the following morning. But, I really needed to be there for him when he did wake up in the middle of the night. There were no early warnings as to whether he'd sleep through or wake up from a bad dream, at least none I knew how to read.

So leaving him alone for even as little as an hour was completely out of the question. The problem was to make Anthony understand that he, Anthony, wasn't the most important in the world to me. That he had to settle for third place on that list. If not a lower rank, but to me, Andy was the most important. Then the National Guard, followed by either John or Anthony. I wasn't sure how to decide who were more important. And I honestly didn't want to make that decision either.

Ur the best thing that ever happened 2 me

How could I make any sensible reply to a message like that? I was after all not the ideal boyfriend for a thirteen year-old boy who had known he was gay since he was seven. We would've had to hide our true feelings for each other from everyone. Oh well, I didn't love Anthony. I loved what we did to each other when we were together, but I didn't think of him as my little boyfriend. He had asked me if I wanted to go steady. Or the very least, to exclusively have sex with him.

It's not the same with other guys

I had tried to get him to have sex with others than me. To remove some of the pressure he put on me to see him all the time. He told me that he had seen two others, one in his fifties and one seventeen year-old. But, as his message said, he didn't feel it was as good with them as it was with me. That's something I thought of as being utter bullshit. My self-esteem could have gotten quite a boost, probably should have.

Anthony just stressed me so much with him constantly demanding my attention. His bad-boy attitude was getting on my nerves too. He was smoking cigarettes, had started doing so when he was eleven. I couldn't really point my fingers at that, being a smoker myself. But he also smoked weed and got drunk on beers or Bacardi Breezers. Even on school nights. I just had to ask him about his parents, if they weren't keeping an eye on him.

They never really cared for him, he told me, which was hard to grasp. I kind of knew that parents like his and kids like him existed but had never experienced it firsthand. Yes, I do realize if he had lived a perfect life with caring parents, I might never have met him, but it didn't stop me from trying to get him weaned off the booze and weed. But, he saw me as his peer, not as an authority. He didn't care much about anything I said, as long as I was prepared to meet him for sex.

Maybe if I had said I'd date him or be his boyfriend (or manfriend, really) if he'd quit smoking and boozing, maybe then he would've stopped. I didn't though, simply because I couldn't. When we were together we had awesome sex, but apart from that, we were just at two very different stages in life. It was also a fact that our relationship was illegal. If anyone ever found out, I'd be the one going to prison.

I tried to keep him happy, although I couldn't do so all of the time. We had a lot of heated arguments, in a way we acted a lot like John and Andy. Where they would tell each other they'd never want to play again, we'd say that we never wanted to fuck again. A lot of other harsher words was used, mostly by Anthony, but I had my part in it too. We'd block each other on Messenger, then he'd create a new profile on the dating site and write to me, convincing me to unblock him.

Four months after we had met the first time, he started complaining about the lack of space in my car. There just wasn't room for the positions in which he'd like to either fuck or be fucked by me. The weather was also getting rather cold, forcing me to leave the engine running while we had sex in the rear of the car. I even brought duvets and pillows with me, so we could cover up a little. He kept bugging me about just going to my place where we could have sex in my bed.

We cud have sex in the kitchen or on the couch and in the bath

All of his suggestions were interesting to me, but I just didn't want him to know where I lived. I was afraid that he'd one day show up when Andy was home and ring the doorbell. I could easily picture Andy running to the door, opening it and Anthony would stand with his stiffy poking out of the unzipped fly in his jeans. Briefly it caused a string of thoughts to appear. That Andy would give Anthony a blowjob right there in the open door. How they'd both play with me on my bed.

I shook my head, angrily, halting the train of thoughts that was picking up steam.

That's something that will and can never happen.

On the other hand, Anthony was right, it was very limiting to have sex in a car.

Maybe if I bought a van and installed a bed in the back?

I was checking out prices on secondhand vans, before I realized it wasn't a viable solution. I'd have nowhere to park it and no good explanations as to why I'd need it.

In the end, one of Anthony's many fantasies made it possible for me to bring him to my home. He fancied being kidnapped and raped by a guy with a big cock. That's not an all too farfetched fantasy really. I've read a lot of young dudes' profiles, where they expressed a wish for exactly that. I didn't consider myself so dominant that I could fulfill their desires, so I never contacted them. Neither did I really want to rape Anthony or do anything against his will.

But the kidnapping part of his dream just might make it possible to bring him to my house.

You talked so much about wanting to be kidnapped right?

Ye?

Be at the usual place 7 PM tonight!

What r u going 2 do

Yeah, he'd always used that annoying text message styled writing in Messenger. I hated it, but could decode it almost fluently by then.

U'll c.

Well, if he could use it, I could too.

k

I logged off right after getting that message. It was only around 5 PM, but I needed to make some stuff ready. I had been somewhat into S&M, though only ever with me as the sub. I had however some items in a place where Andy and John would never be able to find them. They were in a cardboard box in the small roof space of the house. Even I had to stand on a stepladder to get up there, so there was next to no chance two small boys would be able to get to the box.

I hadn't gone overboard in getting a lot of stuff. I didn't really like pain, neither causing it nor being submitted to it, so most of the equipment was for bondage. There were two 10 meter [~30 feet] long ropes, that wouldn't cause friction burns, at least that's what the packaging claimed. A little assortment of dildos and butt plugs in various sizes. From very small to a quite mean one that I could only push into my ass when I was extremely turned on. I also had a set of badly made nylon ankle and wrist restraints.

There was also a black hood which could be tied onto an adjustable nylon collar. I'd actually gotten that from someone in the Guard who had been on a tour of duty when he was in the Army, where something like that had been part of the standard outfit. I guess for when and if they took prisoners. It covered your entire head making it pitch-black inside, while still allowing you to breathe with no problems at all. The hood was really all I was looking for, but I decided to bring the entire box down into my bedroom.

If he wants to be fucked by a big cock, this'll do the trick.

I picked up the black 28x4.5 cm [11x1.75 inches] Mr. Softee dong from the box. It was the very one I had trouble taking myself.

It'll probably be way too much for the kid.

I put one length of rope, the collar, the hood and a blanket in my car, then made sure the back door to the garage and my kitchen were both unlocked. I was quite sure Anthony wouldn't be able to figure out just where I'd taken him, even if he somehow managed to undo the hood when we got to my place. I had an early dinner, took a quick shower and set off to fetch my willing victim.

Anthony waited for me at the car park and got into my car without anyone paying attention to us. I drove to the factory where we had fucked around so many times already.

"I thought you were going to kidnap me?" Anthony asked when I pulled up and turned off the engine.

"I am," I said and grabbed hold of his left arm just above the wrist.

He tried to yank it free, but I held on tight. With my other hand I spun one end of the rope around his wrist. Five or six times it went around his wrist, making it impossible for him to wriggle out of. Getting to his other hand was much harder, now he knew what was going on. I had to twist his left arm quite a lot before he gave in and put his right arm and hand on his back. He wasn't screaming his head off like someone getting kidnapped for real would have done.

Though he wasn't keeping quiet either. He seemed to have trouble deciding whether it was fun or not. The twisting of his arm certainly wasn't fun based on the cry he let out at the end, but he didn't put up too much a fuss when I tied his wrists tightly together behind his back. He wasn't happy about being led to the boot of the car, but sat down when I told him to. Before he had a chance to see and object to it, I had the hood over his head.

"Hey, this is not fun!" his voice came out through the fabric of the hood, "I can't see anything."

"You're not supposed to." I calmly explained as I put the collar around his neck.

I adjusted it to sit tight, but not too tight to be uncomfortable. With the hood tied into place I grabbed his legs and swung them into the car. For good measure I used the rest of the rope to tie up his feet too. He ended up lying on his side with his hands and feet behind him. He didn't look overly comfortable to me, but he wasn't in pain and wouldn't get hurt from being in that position while I drove to the garage at my house. I put the blanket over him, not so much to shield him from view, more to keep him warm.

It was only about a thirty minutes drive then I pulled into my garage. Fortunately I hadn't passed Michelle's house on the way. If Andy had seen the car, maybe he would have come running just to ask me where I'd been.

I closed the garage door before I opened the backdoor on the Volvo. Anthony was still back there, not the greatest revelation I know, but he finally had his dream come true. He was at my house, where we could have sex without knocking our heads into the ceiling or having to keep most of our clothes on due to it being cold.

After I untied the boy's feet, I led him through my backyard into the house. I only removed the hood from his head when we were both inside my kitchen. He squinted his eyes as the sudden change from pitch black darkness to well-lit kitchen caught him by surprise.

"This your place?" He asked me when I undid the rope holding his wrists on his back.

"Sure is. You wanted to come here, right?"

"Yes, but I thought you didn't want to do it in your house?"

"I changed my mind. But we can only do it here, if you wear the hood in the car."

"Oh. I guess I don't really mind the hood, but can we do it without the rope?"

"Long as you won't try to remove it."

"I won't."

"Did you clean out your ass like I told you to?"

"Yeah, I did it four times."

"Good boy. Now, let's go into my bedroom."

I made him take off all of his clothes and sit on the edge of the bed. I figured since I had kidnapped him, I had to at least try to be a little dominant. It wasn't too difficult, it was kind of like when I had to be the tough sergeant in the Guard. Not a role I truly enjoyed, but some people, even volunteers, just need that extra bit of motivation a stern voice and a hard look can provide. I only did that when I needed them to do something I knew they could manage.

I wasn't at all like Gunnery Sergeant Hartman in Full Metal Jacket. I'd probably just start laughing if I tried to bark and shout orders like him. Nah, I'd rather lend someone a hand to get back up on their feet if they tripped and fell. But this little play acting with Anthony was something I could handle.

"Get my cock out and put it in your mouth. All of it!" I ordered him in a stern voice.

He unbuttoned my jeans and opened the fly, pulled my dick out and began to suck on my dick head.

"Not just the head, I said all of it."

I grabbed him by his head with both my hands and dragged him closer, made him take more of my dick into his mouth. Then I shoved my hips forwards, until his lips were buried in my trimmed bush of red pubic hair. He gagged around my dick and pushed at me with his hands until only my dick head remained in his mouth.

He looked up at me, kept eye contact as he sucked my dick completely into his mouth again. Again his gag reflex kicked in and he backed off just a little. I could see his eyes watering but that didn't keep him from going back down on me. I kept my hands on his head and stroked his hair with my fingers. I didn't have to force him anymore, I only showed him my appreciation of what he was doing. I tried to see if he had a hard-on, but couldn't tell from where I was.

"Are you hard?" I had to ask.

Anthony pulled back on my dick and nodded while he kept eye contact. He blinked and a single tear started rolling down his cheek. I caught it with my thumb, wiped his cheek dry as he resumed deep-throating me. My dick having the length it has, probably didn't get very far into his throat, though it did at least reach the very back of his mouth.

The boy had deep-throated me before but not for very long. At the very most he'd take my entire dick inside his mouth three or four times and then back off to suck on what was comfortable to him. Not this time, though. He sucked my dick slowly into his mouth until he started gagging then gobbled the last two centimeters [~1 inch] of my dick. He kept all of it inside his mouth for longer each time he took it in deep, tried to ignore what his body told him and only backed off to relax a little when he felt like he'd throw up for real.

It was a strange but very nice sensation to feel my dick head surrounded by the constricting velvet-smooth lining of his mouth. He swallowed his excess saliva every now and then with my dick still in his mouth, which added to the awfully nice feelings.

When I had quickly planned the events for the evening I hadn't considered giving Anthony a mouthful of my sperm. He had often enough expressed just how revolting he thought it would be to get sperm in his mouth. But the night was still young and with the other things I wanted to do to Anthony, I knew I'd be able to recharge to pump his ass full of cum later. He could always go and rinse his mouth out after I had shot my sperm in it.

So I let the boy continue with his deep-throating. If he stopped before I'd cum, it wouldn't be devastating to me, I'd just end up making a larger deposit inside his sweet chubby ass.

I am going to fuck him before I drive him back!

What Anthony didn't know, but soon would find out, was he'd be fucked by not just my dick or my fingers. If I could, I wanted to make him cum from the toys I had in the box on the other side of the bed. I sure as hell wanted to give it my best shot.

Anthony didn't stop sucking on my cock until I finally came into his mouth. He had looked up at me when he felt the early warnings, you know, the tensing of muscles, the further stiffening of my dick. The slight amount of pre-cum that always appeared just before I'd cum.

I thought he'd back off, but he kept me in his mouth the entire way through my orgasm. He only stopped when he realized nothing more would come out of my dick. Unfortunately he didn't swallow my cum, only spat it out into the towel I had placed on my bed earlier.

What a waste of good cum!

Then again, I wasn't exactly a fan of the taste either.

"Ugh, it's fucking salty," Anthony whined, "I HATE salt!"

"Make us a cup of tea then," I told him.

I went into the kitchen after buttoning up my jeans. Anthony followed me, still naked. He was usually quite modest, always quick to get his clothes back in order after we had sex. To stay true to the kidnapping game, I forbade him to cover up. Besides, he'd only be naked again in a very short time, so there were really be no point for him to get dressed. The little wood stove I had in the living room made the house warm enough to stay naked. Much to Andy's joy, by the way.

"When do you have to be home?" I asked Anthony while he filled the electric kettle with water for our tea.

"I don't have a curfew," he said.

"Really? Don't your mom want you home at a specific time?"

"Nah, it's the weekend, she doesn't care."

I still had a problem believing his parents would be so uncaring, but at least it meant we had a lot of time to spend.

"Okay, here's what we will do then," I started, "When we're done with the tea, we'll go back into bed."

He nodded as he sat down next to me and took a sip from his mug.

"There I'll play with your lovely asshole that you've done such a good job cleaning," I continued.

Dear God, I do hope he did a thorough job!

"How?"

"You'll find out. I promise you'll like it. Well, some of it may be a little uncomfortable at first, but I won't hurt you too much."

I could tell he wasn't completely happy with what I told him.

"You're still kidnapped," I reminded him, making my voice sound icy cold.

His facial expression didn't exactly match the hardening of his dick.

"You will not say no to anything I'll do to your ass tonight. If you do, I'll throw you into my car and drop you off somewhere really far from here. Without your clothes!"

"You'd never!" Anthony said.

"You'll find out, if you say no to anything I want to do. I am in charge tonight! Don't you forget that."

His dick jumped a little at the words coming out of my mouth. I couldn't help reach out and fondle it. Just a little. I was sure the kid would cum plenty of times that night, but not by me manipulating his 11th finger. The theme for the night was anal sex, not masturbation.

Chapter 27
Anthony gets tied up

After we had finished our tea, Anthony said he had to pee. I took him to the bathroom, where I observed the boy trying to pee with a hardon. He finally managed to let go and I ordered him to return to my bedroom afterwards. I had a pee of my own. I don't know if other guys need to take a piss after an orgasm, but I sure do.

I went and got a cushion from the couch and brought it and the rope I had left in the kitchen into my bedroom. Then I got Andy's stepstool from the bathroom. Anthony had found my box of goodies and was having a good look at the items in it. He held the large dong in his hand as I came into the room the second time.

"You're not seriously going to stick this one into my ass?" He asked.

"Probably. Anyway, I won't jam it into your little sweet bottom as the first thing."

He weighed it in his hand, seemed to be deep in thought. I gave him a moment then reminded him of his options, let me do what I want, or he'd be out in the boonies with no clothing.

It was mean of me, I know. But I knew he kind of wanted me to be mean or at least his dick did. Besides, should he really say no, I wouldn't just dump him in some remote location. I'd just take him back to the car park. With his clothes on.

At last he shrugged.

"Fine!" He said, "but next time I get to be the kidnapper."

I didn't respond to that. I pointed to his wrist and he willingly held it up so I could tie an end of the rope to it. I had him sit on the stepstool while I prepared the bed for a long session of butt play. I placed the rather thick cushion from the couch on the bed about a foot and a half from the edge. Then placed one of my duvets folded up on top of it.

Anthony got on top of this soft raised platform tummy down when I told him. His butt hovered over the very edge of the mattress. I made him spread his as far apart as he could get them without hurting. Finally, I tied the boy to my bed so he couldn't move much but only shift around a little if he needed to.

He'd be in this position for at least an hour, if not two. Hence the platform I'd quickly made for him to rest his head, chest and stomach on. I had made sure he couldn't rub his dick against it. Any pleasure he'd get would have to come from his butt and his prostate inside it.

The position he was in also made it quite impossible for him to see what I did to his bottom. However, I could see everything important to me at the time. His asshole slightly indented between his splayed-out butt cheeks. I really wanted to take pictures of the sight, but knew there'd be hell to pay if the wrong people ever saw them.

Anthony, as embarrassed as he is of his body, would kill me if I do it.

Instead I placed the stepstool so I could sit within easy reach of his butt. It wasn't exactly the perfect height, but it was far better than having to sit on the floor or even worse, to kneel on the floor behind him.

Before I stuck anything into him, I warmed him up with my tongue. His ass was clean as he had said it was, and it was pure delight for me. Give me a hairless ass I can lick and tongue, and I'll be able to keep myself occupied for half an hour if not longer. Which is precisely what I did with Anthony. We weren't limited by time and he had nowhere to go. Even if he had, he wouldn't have been able to free himself from the ropes I had tied him up with.

When my tongue was about worn out, I lubed up his ass and one of my smallest dildos. It was about the same girth as my index finger and 16 cm [~6.3 inches] long. Basically, it was just a flexible staff made of some kind of rubber that slid easily on a film of lube into the thirteen years old boy's ass. He hadn't made much noise so far, had only shifted his body a little when I had licked his hairless butt hole. He hadn't said much either when the rubber staff entered him.

It was just too flexible to hit his prostate. I did what I could with it, but didn't get the response I had hoped for. I got another dildo, a bit bigger in both length and girth and quite a lot stiffer than the first. The dildo felt cold, but I knew it would warm up quickly once inside Anthony's ass. It was about as thick as my dick, which I knew he could take with no problems at all. I pushed it into him quickly. At least he moaned quietly from that. A quick feel of his dick let me know he was still hard.

As I fucked him with the dildo, I grabbed hold of his nuts. They were after all just sitting there begging for me to give them a firm squeeze. Which is what I did.

"Oooow," he moaned out.

I eased up on the squeezing but kept a firm grip on his balls. I knew he wasn't into any real pain and I didn't want to hurt him. I was hoping for the psychological effects of him knowing I could cause him excruciating pain simply by tightening my grip and he could do nothing to prevent it. Meanwhile I kept moving the dildo in and out, changing its direction just a fraction each time it went into his bum hole. I made sure it rubbed against his prostate every now and then, though erratically so he wasn't able to predict when it happened.

"Ow, my nuts, man!" He complained after a bit.

"Shut up, kid."

"It hurts."

I let go of them, but flicked a finger at the left one.

"OW!" he exclaimed a little louder this time.

"That's what happens when you complain." I told him and put my fingers around his balls again. This time I just held them in a loose grip.

"It really hurt though," he whined.

"How's your butt?" I asked, wanting to steer him away from focusing on his nuts. Which, by the way, couldn't really be hurting all that much.

"My ass is fine, but please, don't do that to my nuts again."

"Maybe I won't, maybe I will."

It was time to move up to the next size dildo. It was a weird mix between a dildo and a butt plug. I had bought it believing it was a butt plug, but the darn thing wouldn't stay inside my butt when I had tried it. The narrower part close to the base of it just wasn't thin enough for my sphincter to hold onto. The 20 cm [8 inches] long and 4 cm [~1.5 inches] wide thing fit nicely inside my butt however. It was just a shame the darn thing wouldn't stay in there.

As far as I knew, it would be the largest thing ever to go into Anthony's teen bum hole. I had planned to either finish with that or move up to the largest one I had, the large black dong. His asshole looked a bit stretched already with the one inside him, but if a grown man can take two hands up his ass, a teenaged kid should be able to take even the largest dong I had, well, if he was horny enough and sufficiently relaxed of course.

The boy in front of me was horny, there was no doubt about that. Anthony didn't downright scream out he was horny and wanted to be fucked, but I could tell from his body language. He was also very relaxed, as relaxed as one can be, while being impaled by a piece of a rubber.

"Shit out the dildo for me," I told him.

He strained hard, at first nothing happened, then I saw the dildo move ever so slowly. I caught hold of it just as it fell towards the floor and I quickly stuck two of my fingers into his asshole. I didn't want it to tighten too much, wanted it ready for the weird buttplug/dildo combination.

Without saying a word, I removed my fingers and pushed the tapered end of the buttplug up against his bum hole. It widened almost immediately to its 4 cm [~1.5 inches] diameter, which meant I had to be careful. I spent the next five minutes working the end of the buttplug just a tiny bit into the boy, probably only making his sphincter move inwards a little. I'd then let up on the pressure before I'd push back at it.

As his sphincter slowly adjusted to accept more of the buttplug, I pushed it in just a fraction more.

"Is that the big one?" Anthony asked as I ever so gently slipped it further into him.

"Heh, no, there are three more to go," I lied.

"Oh fuck. I don't think I can take more than this."

"Don't give up yet, your butt can take much more than you think."

He had stopped talking when the plug hit his prostate. It was still a slow-going process pushing it in and out of the boy.

A quick glance at my clock radio let me know we still had plenty of time. Hell, it wasn't even midnight yet.

I'll see where we are in 15 minutes.

I knew his anus would probably be mighty sore the next day, maybe even the day after that. I hoped it would teach him the lesson of being careful what you wish for.

A real kidnapper/rapist surely wouldn't have been as gentle with his ass as I am!

Gradually the plug moved a little easier in and out, I kept it well-lubricated, which I could clearly hear as it made slurping noises whenever I moved it.

At the ten minute mark, I could move it relatively freely in and out, but nowhere to the point where Anthony would be able to easily take the biggest dildo I had.

It was much better after another ten minutes had passed.

"Anthony, here's the one and only decision I'm going to allow you to make tonight."

I pushed the buttplug as far into his ass as I could and hoped it would stay put for a little while, then got up and put the big dong in front of his face so he could have a good look at it.

"This is the only one left to go into your ass. You've taken all the other dildos I have with no problems at all. So, do you want to see if I can work this one in there as well? It'll be like you're being fucked by a big black man, just like you've been dreaming of."

He thought for about a full minute before answering.

"I'll try, but can we stop and go back to the one in me now if I can't take it?"

"You like the plug you have in you now?"

"Yeah, it's pretty cool."

"You only have about half of it inside your ass now," I said and pushed it back in. It had slipped halfway out while we talked.

"Wow! You're not going to stick all of that black thing in my ass?"

"Of course not, maybe half of it, certainly not all!"

"Okay."

The dong was quite thick but at least it resembled a real cock. The artificial dick head was easier to get into the boy than the plug had been. Easier, but not easy at all. I had lubed half of it up, though Anthony by then probably had about a quarter of the bottle of lube in and around his butt hole. I had a firm grip on the dong and used my other hand and fingers to help guide it inside him.

He had gotten much more vocal, hissing, moaning out loud and muttering swear words. At no point did he tell me to stop though. I guess he had accepted the challenge and bloody well would do anything to go through with it. Even with all time I had fucked him with the smaller dildos and the butt plug, his ass hole took a very long time to stretch the additional millimeters needed for the dong to enter.

By working together, finally the head of the dong slid through the tight opening. Fortunately for Anthony the width of the dong decreased somewhat just after the head before widening to the 4.5 cm diameter of the long black shaft.

I let the boy have a pause with just the head inside. I tenderly stroked his lower back and buttocks, even caressed his nut sack and his, by then, limp dick. I guess all the energy spent getting his sphincter to relax had drained the blood from his dick.

It took me quite a bit of time, but I managed to bring it back to life. As his dick jutted stiffly underneath his body, I pushed onto the dong.

Anthony had settled down while the dong was stationary just inside of him, but the slight movement and his ass being forced to stretch further made him gasp.

The worse part was over, really. His anus had lost the battle a couple of minutes earlier when the head of the dildo had breached through.

I knew what Anthony was experiencing right then. I had tried something similar to what I did to him, but it had been much later in life, as a fairly seasoned bottom guy I guess you could say.

I had let a guy put me in handcuffs and he had blindfolded me before attacking my ass hole with fingers and finally with a dildo exactly like the one I was slowly pushing into Anthony. I didn't get to see the dong until after we were done though, but I can still remember the feeling of my sphincter adjusting to the thickness of the dong and then the weird sensation of having my rectum spread out to accept the seemingly never-ending firm, yet soft spear penetrating me.

Although he didn't force all of it in me then, I've been able to take 25 cm [~10 inches] of it on my own, by carefully getting it to move into the colon clearing the bend at the end of my rectum. I didn't enjoy it very much, but I had wanted to see if it really was possible to take it all the way inside. And indeed, it had been.

With Anthony, I only pushed it far enough into him to stimulate his prostate and possibly just slightly beyond. I had to be careful though, if I pushed too hard, there was a slight risk of Anthony losing control of his bladder. That reminded me of not having protected my bed and the cushion from any fluidic emissions from the boy.

"Tighten up your ass, kid," I ordered the boy when I had the dong somewhat more than halfway into his ass. I had changed the direction a little, so it had moved further into his rectum.

"Don't let it slide out, if you do, I'll fucking force it right back in!"

Anthony only responded with a grunt and clamped down hard on the dong.

I left him tied to my bed and grabbed a towel from the closet in the bathroom. Before I returned to Anthony, I went outside and smoked a cigarette.

When I reentered my bedroom, I saw the dong hanging from Anthony's butt. It had almost slipped completely out, but the boy had at least managed to hold onto the head of it. I sped up my last couple of steps and quickly pushed the dong back to where it had been before I left the boy.

"Eeerh," Anthony squealed at the feeling of suddenly having his bum filled to capacity again.

I folded the towel and placed it under him so it could soak up anything coming out of the boy.

"Time for you to cum for me, little boy," I told him.

"I don't want to do this anymore," Anthony said in a strained voice.

"You'd rather be left at a deserted place, completely naked?"

"NO!"

"Well, okay, then. I'm almost done with you. Just let me give you an orgasm and I'll take you back, how's that?"

"I don't want to go home, not yet. It's only half past eleven."

It meant his butt had been filled with dildos and butt plugs of varying sizes for more than two hours.

"Do you think your asshole can take just a little more action?"

"It doesn't hurt, just feels a little sore."

Will you make up your damned mind, already?

Well, I continued to play with him. In my box, which by the way was quickly running out of goodies, I had a little bullet shaped vibrator. It was only 10 cm [~3 inches] long and 1.5 cm thick, but what it lacked in size, it more than made up for in its ability to vibrate. It had seven settings and had so far been able to give me some great orgasms. I'd just slip it a little into my ass and kept it there while jerking off. The vibrations were strong enough to add to my pleasure, even if it never got anywhere near my prostate.

I used the vibrator on Anthony's perineum and made sure to apply enough pressure so it wouldn't tickle the kid splayed out in front of me. He didn't bother asking what it was, though he did start moaning. It was just a matter of moving the dong in and out in short strokes, making sure it bumped into or slid over his happy button. Meanwhile the vibrator on his perineum added to the sensations he experienced. I experimented with the settings until I found the vibration pattern Anthony reacted the strongest to.

"Teddy, I ca-can't take this much more," Anthony managed to say in between his moaning and gasping for air.

He shifted his body as much as the ropes would allow him, tried in vain to evade the vibrator and the dong going into him. I had no problems following his small movements.

"Just a tiny little bit more, trust me. Just let it happen," I reassured him, "Yeah, just like that."

Finally, he relaxed and stopped trying to fight against his impending orgasm. Well, for a moment anyway. He tensed up his body again, tried to move his knees towards each other but was prevented from doing so by the ropes.

With one final vigerous push on the dong into his asshole, Anthony's dick spat out three thin, short ropes of sperm. The sperm landed on the towel just out of reach of his dick head. I kept the dong inside of him and held the vibrator firmly against his perineum until I was certain his orgasm was over and nothing more would come out of his dick.

I removed the restricting ropes while Anthony was busy catching his breath. Of course, I didn't remove the dildo from his ass, and wouldn't let him do it either. Not until he had time to make his mind up about the whole being kidnapped experience.

I smoked a cigarette with him in the kitchen. It was the first time I had smoked inside my house since moving in almost seven years prior to that night. I didn't want Anthony to smoke outside in zubzero degrees weather, it would've been torture for him being naked.

Yeah, he was still my kidnapped victim, I only allowed him to get dressed after I had fucked his sloppy ass.

I didn't tie him up for that, but simply took him while he was bent over the kitchen counter. Since his usually pretty tight sphincter had been loosened so much throughout the evening, it required quite some effort for me to finally cum inside of him.

We drove towards his hometown just after 3 AM, I let him sit in the front passenger seat with me. He was wearing the hood and kept his head down until we had gotten out of my hometown. Five minutes after we set off, I told him to take off the hood and sit up straight. I had taken a couple of unnecessary turns, even went round one roundabout more than once, just to screw with his sense of direction.

Chapter 28
John makes a request

Anthony finally seemed to understand he wasn't going to get me as his boyfriend. I don't know if it was the somewhat rough sex I submitted him to that night when I had "kidnapped" him. It was just about then things quieted down a bit, however. We still met for sex every now and then, but we never played the kidnapping game again. He did ask to play it again a few times, but he wanted to be the kidnapper. He wanted to tie me up and do stuff to me, like I had done to him.

While that really did sound interesting to me, I was just too afraid of things getting out of hand. Who was to say what a horny thirteen years old boy could think of doing to a guy who was unable to do anything to prevent it. Anthony was simply too unpredictable and we ended up just having sex in my car about twice a month from then on. Eventually he got a girlfriend and that almost put an end to our sexual relations.

So much for him being gay since seven.

I did get to fuck him senseless every now and then until he turned sixteen and probably found someone else. Maybe he just decided he was more straight than bisexual. He stopped logging onto Messenger and I never heard from him again.

But, before that happened, John started showing an interest in me again. That might also be a reason for why I so quickly lost interest in fucking around with Anthony. While John could still surprise me, he wasn't as unpredictable as Anthony.

John made the first move, I swear it's the truth. I was still prepared to abide to my own rule of not doing anything sexual with or to the boys, unless they asked for it. The most I ever did to them was give them a little stiffy when I bathed them.

It was one of the nights when he slept over and I was tucking the boys in after they had shared a bath. John had told me he took showers on his own at his house, but really enjoyed being pampered by me. I didn't exactly treat him like a baby, but I guess I paid him a lot more attention than his parents at that point in time. My philosophy regarding kids was to let them grow up in their own pace.

That's how I treated Andy, and John too, when he was at my house. Had I been able to, I would've breastfed my son until he no longer wanted to. Not in public of course, but in the privacy of my own home. Some may think I helped Andy with his diaper only to satisfy my own needs. That I wouldn't want him to be able to fend for himself but would always need to rely on me helping him. Those who may think that couldn't be more wrong, however.

I saw it as a privilege and as a part of our "quality time" together. Well, I did get to watch my son's naked body up close, which did cater to my inner boy-lover. Sure, Andy could diaper himself, it isn't exactly rocket science. But every time I did it for him, we bonded even more and had a private moment together. Well, only private when John wasn't in the bathroom with us. After the first few months of him sleeping over, he just did what he had to do, while I got Andy into his diaper. It was just part of the normal routine in the evenings at my house.

As was my story telling, the boys had outgrown the little toddler stories that were easy for me to make up, Andy now six and John almost eight. Instead of fairytales of knights or princes saving the day for an old king or queen, I now told them stories based on Star Wars. Even though the first original movie [A New Hope] had been made around the time I was born, it was quite exciting to the boys. It also raised requests for watching the movies. Now, that I wasn't so keen on, but fortunately the boys thought the Lego Star Wars movies were great too.

The night, when John wanted to have more fun with me, I had just finished my story and he had scaled the ladder to the top bunk. He had crawled on all fours on top of the bedding and before he could bury himself underneath the duvet I gave him a friendly slap on the bum. Just a tap really. He quickly got situated and I leaned in over him to give him the usual goodnight kiss on his forehead. Before my lips could connect to his forehead he put his hands on my cheeks and lifted himself up a bit.

My lips briefly touched the tip of his nose as he moved his head into position, then he pulled on my head and our lips met. I looked into his right eye as he kept our lips connected for 5 seconds. He broke contact and pulled more on my head, hefting himself up to the point where I could feel his warm breath in my ear as he whispered to me.

"Teach me how to kiss proper?"

"When Andy is sleeping," I told him, not in a whisper but kept my voice so low my son wouldn't hear it, then said in a more normal voice, "Sleep tight, Buddy."

I had been taught, and passed on that information to new recruits in the Guard, that whispering can be picked up more easily than if you just talk in a quiet voice. Something about the difference in pitch, I suppose. Andy didn't hear the brief interchange of words taking place above him, at least he went to sleep after getting his kiss from me, on his lips like I've always done since he was less than two feet tall.

Half an hour later, John tried to tiptoe his way from Andy's bedroom to where I was sitting in front of the computer. I had been trying to get the time to pass more quickly, which had been really tough. He had almost made it all of the way across the living room, when I saw his reflection in one of the picture frames I had on the wall next to my monitor. Just as he was getting ready to surprise me, I turned in my swivel office chair and grabbed him. He let out a surprised squeal, but stopped himself quickly.

John looked back over his shoulder towards the hall, and I looked over his other shoulder, also at the door leading to the hall. Both of us hoped Andy hadn't woken from the sudden loud outburst. We stayed like that for thirty seconds or so, the only sound heard came from our breathing.

"I think he's still asleep," I said.

"Sorry," John whispered.

"You don't have to whisper, just don't shout like you did now."

"You really scared me!" He said in a more normal voice.

"As if you weren't trying to scare me first."

"I wasn't. Honest!"

"Sure. I saw you trying to sneak up on me."

"How?"

"See that picture of Andy there?"

"Yes."

"I saw your reflection in it, like a mirror."

"OH!"

"You know what happens to little boys who lies to me?"

"No?"

"They get spanked on their bare bottoms."

John looked shocked.

"I've never been spanked."

"And you won't get a spanking tonight either," I winked at the boy, "It was just a joke, Buddy."

"Do you ever spank Andy?"

"Lots of times, but only when he deserves it."

"Wow!"

"Anyhow, you wanted me to show you something?"

"Uh…" John looked puzzled for a second or two, "Yes! I wanna learn how to kiss properly. Like you kissed me back then, remember?"

Now it was me, who had to stop and think. But I simply couldn't remember ever having kissed John 'properly'.

"When you thought I was sleeping and you stuck your finger in my bum. Duh!"

"Oh. O-oh, so you weren't sleeping at all that night?"

The night in question was suddenly brought to the surface of my memory. I had thought John was asleep like Andy, and had even tickled John a little to make sure he was asleep. Then I had kissed him on his lips for a long time, before I fingered his sweet little bum hole for the first time. I had even put him in a diaper, while the rascal feigned being asleep.

"No. Eh, I feel asleep but I woke up when you picked me up from the sofa."

"Damn, Buddy. Why didn't you say something?"

"Why? It was fun."

"Sheesh!" I shook my head at him.

"Are you mad?"

"No. No, I'm not mad. Just very surprised."

"You can kiss me now," he told me, "if you wanna?"

Do I want to?

"Oh yes, John. I'd love to kiss you. Do you want to kiss like grownups do?"

"How? Oh, like they do in movies?"

I wasn't sure what movies he was talking about, but assumed it was normal motion pictures, not porn. A bit of kissing and some more or less concealed bed activities always seemed to sneak into practically any kind of movie. Even Disney movies. Ugh, that makes me sound like an old prude, or much worse, a hypocrite. Nah, I don't really mind, but it's probably one of the reasons why there are so many teenaged moms out there.

"Well, they don't really show everything, but yes, like they do in movies."

"Yes, let's do it like that!"

I picked up the boy and sat him in my lap facing me. That made our heads almost level, I only had to tilt mine a little downwards, while he tilted his a bit upwards.

"Put your arms around my neck, but don't hug me too tight," I said.

I gently hugged him, my left hand on his neck just below his hairline and my right hand on his pajama-clad bum. He didn't need any encouragement to lift up his head and place a little kiss on my lips. It wasn't much different from when I'd kiss Andy in the evenings, except for John coming back for another kiss. Again, he briefly made contact then withdrew just a little.

"This is nice," he said in a low voice and smiled at me.

"It is," I agreed before I moved in to steal a little kiss from him.

His lips were a bit on the dry side, and I quickly let my tongue slide over them from one side to the other. I could taste the kiddy toothpaste he had used brushing his teeth. It was strawberry-flavored, and while it wasn't a hundred percent like eating fresh strawberries, it came pretty close.

No wonder the boys don't mind brushing their teeth.

I had another lick of his lips.

It was a far cry better tasting than the mint-flavored adult toothpaste I used. And had been using just twenty minutes earlier that night. I hoped it would mask the quite offensive taste of the cigarettes I smoked. John didn't complain at all, he seemed to enjoy our kissing, even if we hadn't really started yet. We were still just pecking our lips against each other with mouths closed.

"Let's try kissing a little differently," I suggested.

"Okay."

"Open your mouth just a bit and relax your lips."

John did as I asked and I moved in, opened my own mouth as our lips once again connected. I pushed my tongue out and gently moved it in between his lips. I explored the inner side of his lips, let the tip of my tongue slide in full circles a few times. The difference in size from his two bigger front teeth to the baby teeth next to them really stood out to my tongue. One tooth in his lower mouth was quite loose, but at least there wasn't any bleeding around the edges of it.

I slipped my tongue further into his mouth, past his teeth. The boy sat passively in my lap, still hugging my neck but otherwise just let me do what I wanted. It was, as he had said, nice, but I wanted, no, needed John to be a little more active and take part in the kissing. I reluctantly disengaged and pulled my head back a bit.

John had closed his eyes when my tongue entered his mouth. His eyes flickered open as I moved my head away from him. His large black pupils quickly reduced in size, adjusted to the lights in the living room, causing his deep blue irises to enlarge. I could have spent a lot longer just studying his eyes than I did, but it wasn't really the time for doing that.

"Hey Buddy," I said softly.

"Hi," his voice sounded like it came from far away.

"Can you push out your tongue a little when we kiss?"

"Uh-huh," he nodded affirmatively.

We locked lips again but this time his little tongue came out to play. Tentatively at first, but as the minutes passed he grew more confident. I think he also shed some of his tiredness, as I could suddenly feel his dicky poke into my stomach.

As his tongue danced with mine, my hand on his bum wanted to join in on the fun. I moved my hand so the middle finger had access to the valley between his bum cheeks. Using the tip of the finger, I pushed it deeper searching for John's little hole.

His pajama bottoms was quite stretchy, as was his underwear and I think I actually pushed part of his undies into his sweet little anus. John pulled away from me.

"You can stick your finger in my butt and kiss me at the same time?" he asked astonished.

"I sure can."

"Cool, do it!"

Well, who would be able to decline such an order? I, for one, couldn't. I resumed our kissing and without looking managed to open the drawer where I kept my lube. Instead of wasting time on undressing John, I slipped my hand in under his underwear and pajamas, my middle finger already lubed up, ready to go. John had worked up a bit of sweat between his bum cheeks, in fact I was sweating quite a lot too, having sat with him on my lap for so long.

The tip of my finger reached his little bum hole and John humped into my stomach when it carefully breached into his nether opening. As he relaxed his thigh muscles he moved back and impaled himself further onto my finger.

"Keep doing that, Buddy," I told him.

He started humping my stomach, much like a little dog humping your leg. I did my best to keep my finger stationary, I wanted John in control of how much of it he wanted inside. It didn't work out so well, as his bum pushed at my wrist when he moved back. He seemed happy with it however. He was grinding his crotch into my belly as fast as he could. Just when he was really pumping, I removed my hand and finger from his bum.

"Aww," he immediately pouted, "why did you do that?"

"Just wait a second and you'll see."

I had all of a sudden recalled the little bullet-shaped vibrator in the drawer. I had used it a few nights earlier and hadn't returned it to the cardboard box where I usually kept it.

It was time to introduce it to John. After I quickly wiped off the lube from my hand, I grabbed the vibrator and brought it to John's well-lubed anus. I pushed it into him, it entered smoothly almost like a hot knife through butter, and I pushed the little button on the end of the vibrator.

"Wooh!" John tried to say with my mouth pretty much covering his.

The vibrator was only on the lowest setting, but the sensation of having something lightly vibrating in his bum hole was completely new to John. Well, unless someone had stuck a vibrator into him prior to me, which I somehow doubt. I pushed the button a few more times, changed the vibrations to a quite strong pulsating action. John had stopped both his humping and responding to my kisses. Clearly he was concentrating on the feelings coming from his bum.

I let him experience it a little while longer without interrupting too much. I kept kissing him though. When I thought he had had enough time to adjust, I pushed on his bum with my wrist. That got him out of his trance-like pause and he resumed humping my belly even more fiercely than earlier. I kept the vibrator at the same depth as he pumped his hips, grinding his dicky into my stomach.

My dick was, as you might expect, quite hard too, but before I might have orgasmed from the grinding boy's action, he shook from one of his own.

When he had calmed down, he pulled away from my kissing mouth and grabbed hold of my hand still holding the vibrator inside his little hole. He pushed on my hand and I slipped the vibrator out of him and powered it off.

"Can I see?" he asked.

I had a look at it behind his back first, wanted to make sure it wasn't too dirty for the boy to see. After all, I hadn't flushed out his little bum before I started fingering him. There were a few specks of poop on it, but mostly water-based lube, nothing really bad. So I brought it around for John to see.

Eyes wide open he studied the little black thing. He reached out for it, but I used a tissue to clean it somewhat before I let him have it.

"How do you make it buzz?"

"Push on the black button, there at the end of it," I explained and pointed to the right place.

"Cool… It tickles!"

"Try pushing it another time."

He did, and eventually he worked his way through all of the seven settings. He turned it off after I told him how to.

"That was really cool," he told me after he put the vibrator on the table next to my keyboard.

"I'm happy you enjoyed it."

I really was and I would have gone to bed a happy man that night, if only John had wanted to go to sleep then.

"Want me to suck on your dicky?" he asked.

"If you want to, then yes, please."

He slipped himself off my lap and reached for the zipper in my pants. I got up from the chair and let him pull my zipper down.

"Let's move move onto the sofa," I said to him.

I pulled my pants down after undoing the button and lay down on my back on the sofa. I pulled John on top of me, in the 69 position. I wanted to suck him off at the same time and pulled his pajama bottoms and underwear down and off him. I had to use his underwear to wipe his butt crack, it was quite messy in there. I didn't feel like getting up to grab some paper tissues as John had already started sucking my dick. I lingered at his nuts for a time before I sought out his little lollypop.

"Stick your finger in me, please," John had moved off my dick to say that.

"Oh you like things stuck into your bum?"

"Yep."

"Someday I'll fuck you with my cock in your little tight ass."

Oh shit, did I say that out loud or only think it?

"Cool!"

FUCK! Hey, wait a minute… Did he just say 'cool'?

I'm not sure what was more perplexing, the topic we were discussing or how we discussed it. I doubt many seven year-olds get to hear that their best friend's dad wants to fuck them in their little bottom. Also, how many boys would say 'cool' to something like that? Not to mention being in a 69 with the man who made the statement.

"You'd want that?" I asked John. I couldn't just leave it with him thinking it was cool.

"Yes. Wanna do it now?"

Holy crap! Yes! yes-yes-yes, say YES!

My inner boy-lover was screaming at me.

"No, John. Not tonight. You're still a bit too small for something like that." I said, ignoring the other voice in my head.

BULLSHIT!

"I'm big enough!"

John pushed his upper body up from my stomach and practically sat on top of my face. He moved further back and ended up resting his nuts on my forehead as he looked down into my eyes. His inner thighs hugged my ears.

"Oh, buddy. My dick is a lot bigger than the vibrator and my finger," I told him, "we need to prepare your little bum hole for a long time. Otherwise it'll hurt a lot. I don't want to hurt you."

"Aw," John pouted, "please?"

"Don't flash those sad puppy eyes at me, it won't work. This is serious, John."

"Darn! Then make my bum ready for it."

"Okay here's what we'll do. Until your birthday, whenever you sleep over here, we'll spend some time getting your bum ready. You'll probably enjoy that as much as having my dick in your butt anyway."

"Hmm," John furrowed his eyebrows, "Okay. But on my birthday, you will stick your cock in my ass. That's what I want from you as a gift."

He giggled as he loudly said the words cock and ass. I reached up and tickled his sides, which I quickly found out was a bad thing to do with your face in reach of a little boy's hands. He really slapped my nose, probably without wanting to, but it hurt like a bitch anyway.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," I howled, tears already making their way down my cheeks.

"Did Teddy get a wittle booboo, here let me kiss it better for you."

John leaned in and placed lots of little pecks on my nose. It really didn't hurt all that much, but if he thought it did, maybe it would stop him from doing something like that again.

"Now, you little monkey, start slobbering on my willy again and I shall commence fingering your cute little bum hole and feast on your little worm," I said in a real bad British accent.

Which is what I did, his rectum clean or not, ended up with two of my fingers deep inside. I think I've said it a few times already, but I could probably have fucked the boy there and then. He was only seven years old though. I would have rather waited until he was ten, but now I had made a promise to sodomize him on his eight birthday.

The thought of buggering such a small kid made me fire my sperm into John's mouth in record time. If there had been a championship for such a thing, I could have won a medal, I'm sure.

Afterwards, I had John sit on the toilet to see if he could expel at least some of the lube I had pushed into his bum. While he sat there, sweetly grunting, I tried to find a pair of undies he could sleep in. The ones he had been wearing were downright soiled and even his pajama bottoms had a large moist spot in the seat. The extra pair of underwear he had at my house weren't very clean either. I had forgotten to wash them. He wouldn't be able to fit into any of Andy's underwear, as he was two sizes smaller than John at the time.

"Put me in a diaper?" was his suggestion.

I had asked if he wanted to try sleeping in the buff, but he was miffed about that idea. Quite strange for a boy who would normally do most anything while naked.

But, onto the changing pad he went and all diapered up, he asked for some warm milk to drink.

"I can't go to sleep without it now," was his reason.

While the milk warmed, I told him how I'd prepare him for his first fuck.

I'll buy some butt plugs for you. They're made from silicone, a kind of rubber. I'll get some different sizes and then whenever you sleep over here, you'll sleep with one in your bum."

"I don't want Andy to know I have something up my bum at night."

"Why not?"

"He'll think I'm weird."

"I don't think so, but we can probably hide it from him. If you wear a diaper to bed, it shouldn't be too obvious, I think. If he asks about the diaper, just tell him you don't like getting up in the middle of the night to go pee."

"Yeah, he'll buy that."

Finding butt plugs in such a small size and good ones that couldn't just be pushed out easily, was quite a mission. I finally found some on a Japanese web shop, but had to pay an outrageous amount of money to get it airmailed to me. I didn't want to wait up to 5 weeks before I could begin plugging John's behind.

Of course, the butt plugs wouldn't really do much in training his sphincter to loosen up. Probably, they weren't really needed either, but at least they gave me an excuse for not fucking him right then.

I couldn't wait for the plugs to arrive, I wanted to see his reaction to having one inside of him. Hopefully, he'd be able to explain just how it felt to sleep with one stuck in his little bum too.

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