Debonair

Nuts and Bolts

Chapter 1

It had been two years already since he was adopted by his foster dad, Jerry, and they were still pretty much ignoring him, turning their nose to the boy who wasn't made of their blood.

He took a sip of Pepsi and deposited the glass on the coaster, slipping away unseen from the noisy crowd. Upon closing the bathroom door, the clamour of the family was stifled. He posed before the wall mirror an instant, mechanically checking his freckled face and slicking up the oily spikes of golden hair on his scalp. The punkish do had been acquired through brave long battles with his new dad. He had capitulated and it stood as a proud testimony.

In front of the toilet, he raised his sweater. His little hands unbuttoned his jeans. Then he lowered the denim pants, along with his bikini briefs, down to the tiled floor. The first touch to his genitals had his nuts scurrying back up his abdomen like frightened tiny rodents. He pushed down his hardening pecker and let it snap up a few times like a spring.

Having a hard-on in front of the esteemed clan is certainly not very polite? There was only one way to soften the uncooperative organ. With both hands, he worked on his hairless package, massaging his testes and fondling the stem of his flower. The circumcised plaything grew even harder as he stroked it.

"Uhhhh yeahhhh," he groaned, watching his face change to grimaces of pleasure in the mirror.

Hurriedly, he masturbated with two fingers, chocking his wobbly peter under the crown. The rush of delights increased and his breathing intensified. The good feelings were really happening now. Concentrating, he wanked harder and faster. His three-inch [7½ cm] bone was turning red and angry.

A gigantic jolt surged inside his penis and his knees shuddered. "Unnnngh!" he yelped, losing the control of his muscles to convulsions. The echo of his climax bounced against the walls before returning to his ears. He grabbed a couple of Kleenex hastily. Again his dick twitched, spraying droplets of kiddie juice in the tissues. The tension ebbed slowly, escaping him through his pissslit.

Spent and satisfied, he returned unnoticed to the lame conversations of the adults. The dizzying afterglow of his orgasm made his hazel eyes sparkle. He feared someone could see it. But as he scanned the members of the family, none of them paid much attention. And it was all right by him. A few more hours to go and it would be over.

Once again, he would have managed to consciously avoid his cousin Ackley. That is, if it had not been for his father.

"Hey Shawnee! Why don't you and your cousin go play in your room. It must be boring, listening to our grown-up talk all evening, uh?"

He threw a look of contempt at the big guy, who was perfectly aware that he was antsy in the company of his step cousin. He sighed heavily and muttered with little enthusiasm. "C'mon Ackley. Let's go find something to do."

The red-haired twelve-year-old boy rose from between his parents with obvious embarrassment. He followed the younger boy, going down to the basement. Shawn glanced back at the odd chap. Ackley was not like the other kids his age. He was a total spaz. A born loser? What kind of name is that anyway?

The kid was a shy and reserved zombie with braces, seemingly in a constant state of inner reflection. Aunt Janet had probably dressed him up before the party, in his usual 'family gathering' outfit, which consisted of grey dress pants, a bleached shirt and a navy blue jacket he'd outgrown two years prior.

"I got Unreal on my PC, you wanna play?" he suggested.

"Yeah, sure,"

"I'm gonna crush you!" Shawn boasted, dashing to boot the computer and to ensure the conversation would be limited to futile pleasantries.

"Your room is so cool," Ackley mumbled, standing like a pole in the middle of the pre-teen mayhem. The boy's toys and dirty clothes were strewn all about. On his furniture, a thousand stickers placed randomly were like a messy coloured mosaic.

Shawn rolled two chairs and crawled under the desk to plug in a second joystick on the back of the machine. When he crept out, he could have sworn the awkward lad had been looking at his bum all along.

"Sit down," he called him.

Squeezed together in front of the monitor, the young males braced themselves for the challenge. The virtual characters chased each other in the 3-D maze, shooting volleys of bullets at the monsters and themselves for over an hour. Up on the third level, Shawn failed to notice his adversary, cleverly hidden behind a statue. He watched his lifeline disappear and his player bleed to death.

"You beat me," he grumbled in disbelief.

The older lad nodded, relishing his victory. "Yeah, I did. Uh!?"

For a moment, Shawn saw a dim ray of normalcy in his pupils. Strangely, he wondered if the geek jacked off like a horny toad, if he was truly as modest and virginal as he let out to be.

"You wanna see something nasty?" he proposed with a twinkle of malice in the eyes.

"What?"

"I got tons of pictures!" he beamed. With a few clicks of the mouse, he popped open the porno images, one after the other on the screen. The XXX-rated material had the opposite effect he had expected. Ackley was about to loosen up, minutes before, but now he stared at the pictures silently. The naked women were flashing upon his sombre pale face, which he kept frozen. The tension in the room became thick and palpable.

"You got a boner?" Shawn chuckled, checking his guest protecting his crotch with both arms.

"Let's play another game," Ackley retorted, with a pleading tone to his cracking voice.

"Okay," the youngster obliged, sensing the sudden desperation of his cousin. His instinct told him that he must not push the issue. He had a hard time understanding the spaz's behaviour. It seemed he was trying to be friendly and distant at the same time. His index hit the escape key just as the voice of Uncle Frank roared up the stairs.

"We're about to leave, get up here Ackley!"

The boys hurried up to greet out the departing group of drunken adults. Amidst the kissing and hugging of the crowd spewing outside, Shawn waved to his cousin. "Bye Ackley, see ya at thanksgiving!"

"It's gonna be sooner than that," Uncle frank interjected. "We enrolled Ackley at the community centre. He's gonna be on your b-ball team. Ain't that neat?"

Shawn faked a smile.

Long after his foster dad had gone to bed and was snoring loudly in the ocean of his intoxication, Shawn stayed up and played online against invisible opponents. In the dim light of a desk lamp, his tanned body glowed, clad only in boxer shorts with yellow smileys on them. His usual sleepwear, that his father thought made him look so darn irresistible.

The alarm clock flipped to 2:15 AM. He exited the game and clicked on the icon of his video chat program. The software loaded and logged him directly into the kids-talk chat room by default. The number of participants at that time of night didn't surprise him. One alias drew his attention right away and he sent out a private message.

The little imp was elated by the effect he was having on the stranger far away. It was the purpose of the game. Seeing how horny they were for him. For once he had the upper hand over the adults. He was the object of their utmost attention. They spied on his every move, while he put on his silly show, in the safety of his bedroom.

He shoved his face in the web cam and smiled wickedly, sticking his tongue out, licking his lips. Then he thrust his hips, showing his beautiful stiffy close-up. The man was pulling on his cock furiously, beating the monster stick. The image changed to the wide grin across the face of the anonymous adult.

Shawn giggled seeing the comical expression on the stranger's mug. The young man had glasses and seemed nice. Not that it mattered much. He danced for the voyeur, swaying and jiving. From the corner of his eyes, he ogled at the screen, bending over and fingering his asshole.

The man's long phallus quaked suddenly. Shawn eyed the window intensely, looking at the ropes of thick man sauce spurting on his hairy belly. So much sperm gushing out because of him. He jerked his boner frantically, utterly excited by the messy display. His young pecker twitched, sputtering its own timid load over the top of the desk.

The voyeur had not left yet. He leaned his head and lapped up the beads of semen, consuming the result of his boyish ejaculation. It had been a very entertaining spectacle tonight. He giggled and gave the finger to the camera.

The screeching of basketball shoes skidding on the wooden laths resonated throughout the gymnasium. Shawn concentrated on the game, hoping to score the key hoops that would beat the boys from the opposing community centre. All the players were in the eleven-twelve years age group. But his short stature was a clear disadvantage, which meant he had to play twice as hard.

Once in a while, he glanced at his cousin. Ackley seemed to be wandering aimlessly on the court, unable to read the strategic flow of the game. The few times he had had the ball and started to dribble had been disastrous. His lack of athletic ability was blatant. His passes were not on target, and he kept losing the ball, tripping on his own shadow.

Shawn ignored the clumsy boy, avoiding him at all cost. He didn't want anyone from the gang to know they were even remotely related. The tall redhead was already the butt of some of the jokes on the team. The whole thing was a complete nightmare.

At the sound of the buzzer, the enemies dunked the final two-points, clinching the victory. The boys retired to the changing room, dejected and fuming. Shawn apprehended the post-game, knowing his geeky cousin had selected a locker next to him. He quickly stripped to his undies and rummaged for a towel.

"I'm not very good," Ackley said as he neared him. "My dad made me come here. I didn't want to," he defended himself.

Shawn heard the raspy voice of his cousin in his right ear. For a second, he thought about continuing to ignore it. "You just need to practice more," he mumbled.

"You think so?"

"A lot," Shawn sneered. Then he noticed something odd. He was certain now that he caught him in the act. Looking down briefly at his crotch and then swiftly away. The boy with braces changed from his b-ball jersey into a t-shirt, flashing his pasty white chest and glancing sideways at him bashfully. At times, attempting a feeble grin across his usually serious face.

And Shawn got the same impression from the Easter party. A curious mix of cloudy signals he was unable to decipher categorically. But it seemed more evident now, that his cousin was definitely flirting with him. He watched him pack his gym bag.

"You're not taking a shower?" he inquired flat out, with a bewildered look on his mug.

"No. I'd rather do it home, I live nearby," Ackley answered, bowing his head shyly.

"So do I," he replied matter-of-factly.

"I I can't," Ackley stammered, stepping away from the embarrassing conversation.

Shawn shook his head, watching the peculiar lad walk away. "What? Are you afraid we're gonna find out you're a girl?" he asked bluntly.

The older kid stormed out the door and didn't turn his back, leaving his baffled eleven-year-old cousin with more puzzling questions. Shawn shrugged his shoulders and headed to the shower room. The other team members were already naked and teasing each other, pushing one another under the big showerheads all around the ceramic enclosure.

Shawn enjoyed the playful ruff housing that went on. He wrestled with the wet boys, screaming and laughing, having a jolly ole time with the guys. It was an occasion to check out how his dick faired. He peeked at all the shrivelled hairless willies, comparing with his own. Happily concluding his pecker was normal-sized. The black kids had some of the biggest in the room, confirming the popular beliefs.

Ackley submerged himself in the warm water of the bathtub. The calming satin of the miniature ocean, helped him forget about the basketball game. It did not make him forget he was different from the other twelve-year-old boys. He looked down between his legs at the huge thing growing on his groin. It seemed it was getting bigger by the minute. His long soft pole was so fat now, that the foreskin did not cover the tip entirely and his pink pee-hole was poking out the protective cover of skin.

His plump balls sprawled heavily on the bottom of the tub. The distorting mirror of the clear water made his genitalia seem even larger. A patch of dark orange hair had formed over it, like a stain on his perfectly white frame.

The doctor had called it premature puberty. He called it a cruel curse. His mother fled him whenever there was the slight possibility she might see him naked. And so he lived, trying to hide the shameful secret dangling from his pelvis. Afraid it would reach the floor when he got to his fifteenth birthday.

Along with the obvious bulging of his maleness, came the cracking of his voice, which made him sound like he was croaking at times. And the rush of hormones. The powerful surge of hot lava inside his body sending his sex drive into overload.

He thought of Shawn and his penis twitched. The images of the spunky brat naked, materialized in his mind. His soft sexy body glistening under the shower. His hard pink titties on his burgeoning tanned chest. His tight little white butt. The fantasy elicited the most sensuous tingles in his pole. He grasped it in his hand, caressed it gently, felt it swell and rise from his crotch.

The big tube expanded, reacting to the measured flicks of his wrist. It ballooned to eight and a half thick inches [22 cm] of hot meat, protruding above the surface of the water. The huge mancock was like a baby's arm jutting in the middle of his slim boyish waist.

He stepped out and stretched on his back, across the bathroom floor. With a few acrobatic lurches, he brought his legs back to his head and grabbed himself below the knees, rolling into a ball. His oversized prick lunged at his face. The details of the grotesque enormity jumped to his eyes. He licked the turgid flesh, tasting again the muskiness of the wet organ. It was only when his tongue danced on the vibrant flesh that he could accept it as his own.

Effortlessly, he engulfed the big knob and his lips nibbled up the wide shaft. The sweet sensations made every bad aspects of his deformity seemed worthwhile. He raised his head off the floor, trying to swallow more of himself. Then, he rocked back and forth, sucking his huge cock, conjuring the blissful rewards with his lips.

His mouth was filled to capacity with hot flesh. Only a small portion of the bloated organ, that would make any adult owner proud, could fit into his little cavern. Ackley cherished the instant, forsaking the world, to concentrate on slurping that big demanding pole.

He intensified his siphoning, choking on his own cock as he tried to reach new heights of pleasure. The bathroom was spinning. His muscles were quivering. He could feel it coming soon. A few more swipes of his tongue and he would be there. He envisioned himself tied up. He imagined that his cock belonged to somebody else, who was fucking his face. Feeding him that rampant erection in his little mouth.

The hard pipe swelled even more. At once, a spray of thick sperm gushed down his throat. His whole body shuddered as if he was having an epileptic fit. The thick jets of boiling cum erupted repeatedly. His dick was like a fire hose. He let himself gag on his own jizz, his face turning red as he tried to breath and swallow the flow of discharge. In the end, most of it was in his stomach, and the remainder oozed around his mouth.

Shawn purred in his foster father's lap, clad in his smileys boxers, the man's favourite. The television was playing some inane sitcom. But the little boy was more interested in the warm embrace of his dad. His big hairy hands were caressing his bare knees, his mouth gave moist little kisses to the back of his head. He had never felt more loved in his life.

The wiry adult was like a kind and gentle bear. He had short curly brown hair, much like that of a lamb and sincere blue eyes you could see through right to the soul. Shawn never felt threatened once by the husky man, even though he stood at six feet four [1.90 m] and had muscles rippling all over his frame. Nor by the fact that his entire body was covered with a thick shag of dark curls that made him look like a yeti.

The big guy had accepted him into his home without conditions. And he had fell in love with him from day one, expressing his gratitude on a daily basis with boyish kisses and hugs. He didn't rebuff Jerry's sexual advances either, eager to learn all about it.

Right then, sitting on his father's thighs, he perceived the hustle of blood going to his small peter, gorging it as the sweet stroking continued. His dad's hand migrated to his erection, fondling the rigid branch tenting the fabric of his boxers. The large extremity enclosed the swelling bulge, rubbing it. He let his leg roll off and it crept up under the hem, touching his hard nuts, stretched tight by the scrotum.

The long fingers grazed his perineum deliciously and probed the opening of his butt. He giggled and threw a consenting grin back at his dad, who was staring blankly at the TV, as if his hand had a mind of its own.

"What are you looking at?" Jerry burst out.

"An ugly ape."

"Why you lil'-" the man roared, shoving his adopted son to the side and flipping him like a pancake on his tummy. "I will spank your smart ass!" he bellowed, holding his frail arm behind his back with one hand and pulling down his boxers with the other.

"Noooo! Noooo!" Shawn cried out, amidst a fit of giggles.

The colossal man delivered a few tender swats to his white rump and grasped his delicate balls from behind. He knelt and leaned until his face was levelled with the round globes. While he clutched the smooth package, he lapped up the pink valley of his son's butt. His tongue travelled to the puckered hole, zeroing in on the sensitive ring.

He let go of the kid's genitals and spread the gorgeous cheeks apart. Shawn moaned and pushed his bottom up, flaunting his wet rosebud. Jerry dove in, tongue-fucking the tiny hole with spirited jabs of his spongy organ. He turned him around and admired his cute boner. A glistening drop of liquid had formed on he tip.

He nuzzled the frisky hard-on and swallowed the whole shaft, sliding down until the scant length was imprisoned in his mouth. Shawn gasped and wailed, overcome by the sudden detonation of pleasure from his groin. His small fists took hold of his dad's curly hair and pulled, urging the sucking mouth to bob on his boydick.

Jerry clamped his lips on the stiff little morsel, suctioning all the tasty kid juice out of it. He could hear the boy pant loudly, seeking air for his lungs. His legs were spread wide, his toes all curled up from the intense bliss of his childish euphoria. He darted at the wagging woody with the tip of his tongue and grinned upon seeing so much haze on his son's mug.

"Look here what I got," he said to the blond boy, extending his hand.

The youngster gazed at the hand of his father, where the squarish envelope of a condom was nestled in his palm.

Chapter 2

Shawn eyed the throbbing tool about to slip up his bum hole as the man struggled to unroll the lubricated condom onto it. "My butt's getting cold," he snickered. Jerry's fingers juggled with the plastic envelope, until he got the hang of it and hopped forward like a rabbit, his ankles entangled in the heap of clothes.

He nudged against the eleven-year-old boy, rubbing his dick between his silky buttocks. The dizzying exaltation of his arousal was like a drug trip. With one hand, he guided his erection, seeking the kid's hot pucker.

Shawn held his breath, feeling the rude probing of his backdoor. The lubed slab of meat grazed his anus and began to plunge into him. "Ohhhh shit!" he bawled as the hard spike speared up his hole. "Ughhh! Ughhhhh! UGHH!" His litany grew louder with every inch invading his rectum, enlarging the tenacious opening.

A wave of indescribable sensations exploded from his butt hole to all of his fingertips. The rhythmic plowing commenced right away. He placed his hands flat on the cushion to keep his balance and shut his eyes to taste the feelings he was accustomed to. "Ohhhh yeahhh, fuck me," he whispered.

Jerry grasped the hips of his young partner firmly. His tight asshole was still straining to eject him. It drove him crazy with lust every time the clasping muscle attempted to bite off his shaft. He observed his cock go in and out of the kid's flawless ass, pulsating through the translucent membrane of the rubber.

With more vigorous thrusts, he began to stab into his guts. Their bodies stiffened with the more intense copulation. He was now deeply lodged up his son's ass. He could feel the tremendous heat of his insides on the upstroke. And his bloated dickhead bumped against the strangling anus on the down stroke, denied exit by the unyielding sphincter.

Shawn was always astonished when his dad nailed him. He was getting assfucked for real! Just like in the movies. Their bodies were merged together, driven by instinct. He was aware that other daddies didn't fuck their little boys in the ass, but he didn't care. He was happy, pleasing Jerry's cock with his butt hole.

The bulky man drowned in the repetitive tempo of his blissful pumping. The child's anus was dilating, accepting him more easily.

"Ohh yesss, ooooh yessss ooooohh," Shawn cooed, feeling the adult prong rubbing against his juvenile prostate. His pre-teen dick was stiff as a rock, slapping on his belly. Jerry's fingers dug into the flesh of his hips as he fucked harder and faster. He could hear him starting to groan out of joy.

"Ughhh, I'm gonna cum in yer butt," the man grumbled, jamming his cock harder and rumbling like an animal. "Ughhh YEAHHH! OHHH FUCK OH FUCK YEAH!" he screamed, pistonning into the recess of the kid's hiney. His pelvis made contact with the divine boytail, again and once more. Shawn squealed, wanking his little prick and cumming right away. He felt the wide organ harden to a rigid pipe of steel as his dad neared his climax.

Jerry shoved his cock forcefully and wrapped his arms around his son's torso. His body jerked in short intervals. Each spasm accompanying a peak of his orgasm. The violent blasts of semen rushing out of his penis were like the sweet tickling of a feather.

Harold Langdon paced back and forth in the school corridor, awaiting the bell that would kick off the start of a new day. His mind was drifting while the sixth graders entered his class. It had been going on long enough. He would have to find something else to do for cash. He had a Ph.D. in history for Pete's sake! Why did he even continue to take these jobs, subbing for old twats who got sick from drinking too much tea?

The bell rang and the children raced to their neat little desks aligned in five perfect rows. He wrote his name on the chalkboard, sensing the stares of the pupils scrutinizing him. They probably weren't used to a young teacher, he suspected.

When he turned around, the forty-six eyes zoomed on him. He was a thin man, relatively tall with neatly combed brown hair and elegant round glasses on his nose. His electric razor had seen better days thus his jaw always had a veil of stubbles, giving his face that rugged manly look.

"Hi class, my name is Harold Langdon and I will be your substitute teacher 'til the end of the semester," he announced.

The children roared with spontaneous glee, raising their arms in a vee of triumph.

"All right! Settle down," he quieted the boisterous crowd. "Now, I'm an easygoing fella, but don't push my buttons," he pointed out. "I prefer to be addressed as Harold. Not Mr. Langdon. Okay?"

The children nodded in unison.

"Good. Before we begin, I will go through the list of names to help me memorize your faces. When I call your name raise your arm."

The children looked at him, turning an attentive ear.

"Belinda Allen," he said, glimpsing up and finding the little girl's extended arm.

"Cody Alexander," he pursued the process.

"Shawn Bradford," he pronounced the third name. When his eyes locked on the boy in the back, his heart rate doubled. He had seen that kid before. He had seen more than he should of that boy. 'Shawn11' he thought silently, his lips breaking into a fake smile of assurance.

The blondie was wriggling in his chair, his hole still sore from the previous day's assfuck. The teacher had seen him, but he was not moving on to another name. "I'm here!" he hollered. Then he recognized him. The stranger from the web cam. His arm came down slowly, as if it was melting ice under the sun. And he smiled wickedly.

"Don't use that tone of voice with your mother!" Ackley's father growled, pointing an accusing finger across the diner table.

The young redhead lowered his stare on the mash potatoes. He couldn't believe he'd been trapped in such a rotten deal. His appetite vanished and he pouted.

"Listen honey, Uncle Jerry needs some time off. It's very hard to raise a foster child alone, especially that boy, Shawn," she said, with a touch of disdain at the end. Then her voice became harsher. "Your dad and I are going to that inn with Jerry, whether you want it or not! I thought you'd be grateful that we trust you enough to stay on your own with your cousin?"

"I don't like him."

"Rubbish!"

"He's mean to me!"

"He isn't"

"I'm not hungry anymore," Ackley fled the table, tears rolling down to his chin.

"If you came out of your shell once in a while, maybe it would be easier for everyone," his father shouted. "You're not a leper. You've grown too fast."

In the gloomy darkness of Ackley's bedroom, both boys were lounging on the bed, watching the second hour of The Fellowship of the Ring. The sound of clashing swords echoed in the empty house. There was a good twelve inches [30 cm] between their silhouettes. An invisible frontier where the usual fog of tension blurred all communications. They'd been thrown in that prison, where the bars were made of parental authority.

"I'll change into my pjs," Shawn announced.

Ackley peered at the unwelcome visitor, jumping off the mattress. He observed him rummaging through his bag. After a while, it became clear that the boy was not leaving for the bathroom. He stood there shedding his t-shirt, tugging on his socks. The older lad's heart pounded as he tried to avoid looking at the strip tease, focusing on the movie.

The pre-teen boy removed his shorts and slipped his skimpy underwear down his slim bronzed legs. Ackley's pupils were stinging. The little buns were in his line of sight, glowing from the hues of the TV. Shawn turned around and presented his front. He took a quick peek at his smooth circumcised dick.

"Aren't you tired?" the blondie asked. "You should put on your pjs too."

"Yea," he answered, crawling out of bed lazily. While he shucked his clothes, he glared at his adopted cousin, who was shamelessly ogling back at him. The naked boy was analyzing his every move as his clumsy hands nervously pulled off his duds. But for once, he felt courageous enough.

A breeze of freedom lifted his soul. Soon it would be over. He dug his thumbs in the waistband of his Hanes briefs and prepared for the reaction of his guest. With a swift gesture, he sent them to the carpet.

"Oh shit! Your dick's huge!" Shawn raved, contemplating the chubby genitals. "It's bigger than my dad's!"

A flash of heat coloured Ackley's cheeks. His throat was dry. "Let's let's put put on our pjs now," he stuttered.

"Not yet!" Shawn protested, lunging from across the bedroom to assail him.

The twelve-year-old redhead giggled as the turbulent youngster began tickling him. He fell on the bed, carrying the eighty pounds [36 kg] of his cousin over him, laughing wholeheartedly. The bare skin of the little boy felt so good against his. He yearned to kiss him and cuddle him. The pesky hands groped between his thighs. He rolled on his tummy preventing further attacks from the demented rascal.

"Get off me, lil' perv!" he yelled gleefully.

"I wanna see it hard!" Shawn insisted, cupping his plump nutbag in his moist palm and squeezing.

"Owww!" Ackley vociferated. The kid was merciless, crushing his nuts and pinching his butt cheeks. He gave up and cooperated, allowing the exploration of his crotch. Shawn grasped the lengthening sausage between his fingers.

They panted and eyed each other with lust.

Wordlessly, the little boy began licking Ackley's cock thoroughly, coating his dick in his spit until it glistened in the soft light of the TV. He bent his head down and took the heavy nuts in his mouth, sucking on them gently, rolling them around in his cavity to feel their weight. He could just imagine the huge load of sperm sauce that Ackley's balls were churning out.

He released his bollocks and returned to his shaft, licking the hot wet ramrod up and down, over and over again. His tongue twirled around his hot, hard dickhead, chewing on it gently. Then, he took his entire throbbing cockshaft into his little mouth, deep-throating him all the way in. The older boy was hissing, contemplating his cousin's work, his face locked in a look of complete beatitude.

"Ohhhhh yeahhhhhh," he mumbled, grinding his oversized boycock into the eager, hungry mouth.

Shawn slobbered some more over the long tower of flesh, flooding the immense gift of nature with his saliva. His asshole was itching and he straddled the boy's stomach, his legs on either side of him. The hot piece of meat slid in his crack. He lifted up a bit, arched his back, and felt the hard fiery cockhead poised below his tender anus.

Ackley suckled and nibbled the little boy's nipples, feeling the clasping anal ring pinching the tip of his penis. It was almost more than he could bear for his first fuck, as the blond boy lowered himself onto him, taking his fat mature rod into his tight little butt.

The youngster impaled himself slowly on the rigid fuckpole, breathing hard and crying out. He took the bulk of the erection in his rectum and began bouncing on it. Suddenly, the need was stronger, building with each lift and plunge. Both cried out as waves of intense pleasure grew with each passing second.

Shawn jerked his small pecker and he fucked himself on the big stick. He stuck his tongue out at the corner of his mouth, concentrating on the perils of the acrobatic feat. With his sphincter, he milked the huge prick, hearing Ackley moan out of pure bliss. His young body was wired. He bounced faster making the pleasure soar, until a glorious torrent of shuddering release, peaked in a culmination of delight. His little boner spit a timid wad in the older boy's bellybutton. He stiffened up with the big spike up his ass, watching his little dick twitch repeatedly.

When his orgasm waned. He dismounted from the big cock and attacked it with his hand. The slimy pole was covered with their fuck juices. Ackley's body undulated as he tried to keep his climax at bay. He wanked harder, tugging on the bloated purplish head. The first jet of boiling sauce blasted all the way to his cousin's contorted face.

He felt the spasming cock tremble between his little fingers. Wave after wave of thick, creamy cum came spewing out of the throbbing pole, splashing on the boy's flat hairless chest. His body was trashing from the violent and passionate orgasm. The final moderate spurts, dribbled along his shaft, matting his wiry orange pubes.

Ackley beamed. He smiled genuinely, showing his steely braces. As if all the years of pent-up shame had been ejected with his ejaculation, he felt like a new boy.

"Let's do it again!" Shawn said.

Shawn stopped in the doorway of the teacher's small office and cleared his throat to announce his presence. "You wanted to see me?" he peeped.

"Come in, yes. Close the door behind you and sit down," Harold said, gesturing to him. "Be careful, they just waxed the floor. It's very slippery."

"Cool!" the randy youngster raved, sliding across the tiny room.

Harold observed the little boy until he was seated in front of him. Then he inhaled loudly, uncertain as to how to discuss the issue with tact and diplomacy. "I called you in, because I wanted to clear the air between us."

"Omkay," Shawn acquiesced, chewing his bubble gum.

"That night. I shouldn't have been in that chat room. It was wrong. And you shouldn't have been there also, doing what you were doing. Remember?"

"Is it very bad?"

"Well, it's not THAT bad," the man answered. "But it's not that stellar either."

"Oh."

"Do you understand?" he asked, sensing the lad was getting confused.

"Yes."

"I just want everything to be ok between us, since we're gonna be spending the semester together. Let's forget it ever happened. Deal?"

"Uh, uh."

The young teacher felt a weight lifted off his shoulder, hearing the agreeable words of his charge.

"Are you horny for me?" Shawn blurted out abruptly.

Harold couldn't believe his ears. He eyed the sassy kid, thinking he was absolutely vulgar and uninhibited. A real brat, in the pure sense of the word. The kid had a smirk on his freckled mug that would have made even the straightest man fall completely head over heels for him. And he was convinced right then, that if he'd play his cards right, the boy would give him a blowjob before every test if he promised him an 'A' for it.

"You can go now," he said, blushing brightly.

The blond boy lurched up and his left foot slipped on the waxed floor. "Watch it!" Harold cried out, seeing the schoolboy stumble. An atrocious loud breaking sound chilled the man's blood as he witnessed the child's shoulder crash against the corner of his desk.

"Are you all right, Shawn?" he blabbered, rushing to his side.

The small carcass was lying lifeless, eyes closed, mouth agape. He turned the boy over to see the extent of the injury. A grimace of shock gripped his face. The little arm was severed clean off the shoulder. But where he should have seen a gory mess of blood and cartilages, there was a mish-mash of torn wires, drenched in a viscous yellowish soup. The fibre optic cables were twitching around the metallic clavicle. At the end of the severed arm, the round tip of a metallic bone was gleaming.

He gasped and backed off instinctively, unable to fathom what had just unravelled before him. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, praying it was all a bad dream. For a moment, he gazed blankly outside the window, feeling the sweat seep from his pores. Then he looked down again. The inanimate robot boy had not moved at all since he had last touched him. He stepped out of the office cautiously and locked the door.

Chapter 3

His mind twisted and spun of web of insane notions to explain it all. He chuckled to himself, going delirious. The shrill ring of the doorbell startled him. The cops already on his tail? He pulled the door ajar and glimpsed at the stranger. The old man in the hall wore a long grey raincoat. A felt hat of similar colour, atop his head, cast a shadow across his wrinkled and leathery face. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"May I come in, Mr. Langdon?" the man replied curtly, showing him the silver handle of the gun in his pocket.

Harold let the armed fella in and watched him take a seat on the sofa as if he was an old friend dropping in for a visit.

"It seems you have encountered an unfortunate incident with one of our androids?" the man smiled grimly. "Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. How rude of me. I am Donovan Brown."

Harold nodded nervously, his stare riveted on the shiny Beretta in the gloved hand.

"It's not loaded," the old man said, seeing how uncomfortable his interlocutor was. "I have to carry this for other reasons," he added, placing the firearm on the end table. "I'm sure you are eager to hear what I have to say about Shawn? May I suggest you pour us each a glass of that scotch over there?" He glanced at the bottles on the shelf. "Perhaps, a double for you."

Harold executed the request, intrigued by the enigmatic individual.

"Go on," he urged.

"As you have probably figured out, Shawn is not really human. He's an organic machine. A robot made of flesh and metal."

Harold flipped the shot glass of alcohol in the back of his throat and coughed coarsely.

"His skeleton is made of a metal alloy. But his vital organs are human, taken from donors after death. The trick is to make it all work together. The worst part is maintaining a digestive system outside its original host."

The young teacher listened attentively, completely aghast. The stranger was speaking calmly, as if it was just a friendly conversation over drinks. He nodded to him, signalling he had comprehended his last sentence.

"Of course, the brain is replaced by a CPU, much like the one in your computer. That's all that is necessary to run the most sophisticated programs of artificial intelligence."

"You made him?"

"No! Don't give me so much credit. We stole him!" the old man avowed. "Shawn, along with other androids are made by a little secret company in Iowa called Ambio. They got the sole legal contract from the government to build futuristic armies. Mech warriors. Toy soldiers, if you will. Our group in turn, steals the machine from the government. But we have a different purpose for these magnificent creations. How should I put it?" he paused. "We turn them into the most expensive blow up dolls out there!"

"Sex toys?"

"If you wish. We tinkered with the code to ensure they are devoted to pleasing any man."

"Like a dog?"

"Yes. But with more rewarding results. Shawn can bring more than your slippers if you ask him."

Harold stared at the man in disbelief. His brain was trying to compute all the data. It made absolutely no sense. "Does he feel anything?" he asked.

"Technology has not enabled us to reproduce the rainbow of emotions a human can experience. And the nervous system of the androids is very limited. We use what's there to simulate pleasure. They feel virtually no pain. We have programmed the more interesting stimuli and they will react accordingly."

Harold massaged his brow. It was suddenly too much for him. He didn't know what to think, or what to say. Was this where the world was headed? Puppets made in our image to use as we pleased?

"Hard to believe," Mr. Brown stated. "Time is flying Mr. Langdon. We need to recover the android and repair him before somebody else finds him. The government has a nasty habit of eliminating evidence when it comes to top-secret weapons. And that would include you, by the way."

"Why me?" Harold snarled. "How did you know I had him?"

"We were able to monitor Shawn up until his memory froze. Where did you hide him?"

"He's exactly where he fell, on the floor of my office at school. I locked the door," Harold sneered, elated that he had eluded the masters of high-tech tracing.

"Why didn't you say sooner!" the old man barked, rising to his feet. "The janitor could have access to your office! Give me the key."

As they raced outside the house, two Bentleys were waiting on the curb. The old man handed the key to an acolyte and the first car sped away, its tires screeching. "Hopefully, we will recover the machine before anybody else," he said, looking at the sleek black car disappear.

The young teacher felt vulnerable all of sudden. He was in on too much of the sordid affair. Now that he had divulged the location of the treasure, he wasn't sure if they would dispose of him. The chauffeur of the other car, opened the door for them.

"Step in, Mr. Langdon. I'll show you more of our little project at the manor," the old man offered him.

He sensed in the pit of his stomach, that the invitation was sincere. Curiosity was gnawing at him. He certainly wouldn't have refused for the world. The backseat of the car was fitted with all the gadgets of the rich and famous; mini bar, fridge and TV. He sat comfortably and the vehicle drove away.

"You said they made soldiers, how come they made a kid like Shawn?" he asked.

"Children make the best spies. Ambio creates very few of them. That's why they are even more precious to us."

The rest of the trip was silent. Harold watched the pavement roll past the headlights. Then he saw the wrought iron gates to the mansion. They opened automatically, allowing entrance to the long driveway that led up to the huge estate.

It was a beautiful edifice, the size of three houses combined, made of red bricks. The shutters were painted white and sturdy vines climbed along the two towers at both ends. Two big concrete lions frozen in a roar welcomed the guests on each side of the front steps.

A young teenager with a clean complexion, opened the front door. He bowed solemnly, acting like a butler. "This is our humble club," Mr. Brown said, inviting the young teacher in. The lobby was a luxurious room with high ceilings and classic oil paintings hanging on the walls. The room adjacent to the lobby was the library, where three men were smoking cigars and drinking vintage port.

The old man was lured by their rowdy laughter. Harold followed him, admiring the old bookshelves and fine oak tables of the salon. The three aged fellas were dressed in stiff tweed jackets and perfectly ironed trousers. They were reclining in large leather armchairs and continued to discuss, oblivious to his presence.

"Let me introduce you to the members, Mr. Langdon," the old man declared. "This is Jules White, next to him, we have William Gray and finally Henry Green. They may seem depressing like this. But I assure you they can be a colourful bunch."

The three men nodded respectfully.

"Let me show you to your room, now," Mr. Brown added.

They climbed the grand stairway and strolled in a long corridor. The old man opened the door of one of the room. "Assuredly, you will be staying with us for the night?"

"Ok," Harold replied. "That's very hospitable of you."

"These will be your servants, they will make you feel at home."

The teacher peeked in the room. On the four post bed, two adorable little boys were waiting patiently, completely naked. Both had a short blond mop on their heads, cut with a bowl. They were identical twins of the same age, seven he figured, and could have easily posed for Gap Kids ads.

"Well, I'll leave you now. You must be exhausted. There's a hot tub in the back," the old man said with a wink.

Harold began to undress, eyeing the two pretty children. He looked at them differently, now that he knew they were not really human.

"We can do that for you," they proposed in unison, helping him out of his clothes.

He sat on the edge of the bed and enjoyed the frisky paws tugging at him, removing his socks and unbuttoning his shirt. It was like a game for them, to see who was faster. Their giggles rose in the room. He stretched on the bed and raised his butt. They stole his trousers and his briefs. Then they laid next to him on his right and on his left, caressing the fur on his chest.

The trio lounged naked a while, creating the most provocative tableau. Harold couldn't believe his luck as he patted the round bottoms of the perfect twins. He looked at each of them. They were smiling and making him horny by the second. There was no doubt in his mind. He was going to defile the little angels without a trace of remorse.

The small duplicates were absolutely amazing. He marvelled at the quality of the sculpted flesh of the androids. Impeccable work of a plastic surgeon obviously. He could even hear the faint simulated heart beats, and feel the sticky boysweat in the palm of their hands.

"Go on, play with my cock," he commanded.

The kids giggled upon getting his approval. As they began to lick his hairy, loosely hung nuts, he grabbed a few pillows so he could prop himself up and watch the two brothers. Each of them fondled and chewed one of his balls. Then side-by-side, they ran their tongue on his swelling prick. The pulsing mancock rose between their cute faces as they attacked it with the wet tips of their tongue.

He pulled down his foreskin and fed them his precum. The hot little sponges lapped up around his glans and into his cockslit. He didn't even have to coax them. The brothers were sexy cock eaters, sliding their mouths along the shaft, savouring his hard phallus like blond-haired Labrador puppies licking a fresh bone.

He grabbed one of the boy's head roughly, clutching a handful of hair and slammed his mouth down on his pole, passed his tonsils. "Suck it!" he ordered. The youngster choked a second and began slurping on his fat hose. Meanwhile, he pulled the other tyke over and swallowed all of his smooth genitals in his mouth, sinking his teeth in the delicate flesh, knowing it would not hurt him.

The blondie whined out of joy as the adult mouth siphoned his nuts and pickle. Harold guided him over his face. He licked him between the legs, from the front, and up to his minuscule shithole. As he returned to sucking him, he slipped his big finger up his tight bum hole. The kid was going nuts. It seemed the more he finger-fucked him, the hornier he got.

It was like Fantasy Island for the young man. He stood up and the kids crawled at his feet, following him like he was their mother. Their sticky hands tugged at his cock and balls. Their tiny mouths drooled over his erect prick. He took turns with them, rubbing his moist cock on each of their cute faces and nourishing their horny mouths with it.

They were making his temperature rise. Their little traps were like vacuums. He thought about letting go and cumming down one of them's throat. But he noticed the tube of KY, conveniently forgotten on the end table. "Go suck your buddy on the bed," he said to one of the kids.

"His name is Mark!" the child replied.

"Go suck Mark, then."

The boys giggled and left him a minute of peace. As one of the kids bobbed his head on his twin's cocklet, he applied the slippery ointment to his engorged member. The anticipation of fucking the two seven-year-old rascals aroused him like never before. He returned to the orgy, creeping behind the little cocksucker whose butt was defenceless.

With a quick stab, he plunged into his minuscule shithole. The kid raised his head momentarily and yelped throughout the prompt penetration. Then he continued sucking his brother.

Harold grasped the shoulders of the little boy and shoved himself brutally into his rectum, fucking him hard from the start. He gazed at the other boy who was smiling as if this was not the most shocking scene of decadence.

For a good while, he fucked the kid, shaking him like a rag doll. His anus was fantastic. So hot and tight. When he looked down, he could see the red ring of flesh, stretched grotesquely around his shaft. Any regular child would have shrieked out of pain. But not this one. He climbed over him and humped him good and hard, thrusting his fuckpole deeper into his guts.

The other child seemed to be getting bored. He pulled out of his partner and turned the other blondie on his flank. Holding his short leg in the air under the knee, he pressed his slimy cockhead on his tender anus. The small doll whimpered as the massive knob forced his sphincter open.

He locked the squirming child in his embrace and pushed harder, invading his rectum. He did not stop until all of his adult prong was crammed into the seven-year-old boy. The kid's insides were a furnace. He groaned and sodomized him slowly, pulling back and sliding in, enjoying the sensation of having all of his hard, aching cock surrounded by a hot, moist, pulsating channel.

The two monkeys were eager for more. For the next half-hour, he jumped from one boy to the next, banging their little butts ball deep. They raised their legs in the air like horny bitches, flaunting their red gaping assholes. He bounced on them, rutting like a dog in heat.

At one point, he bent the two kids over the edge of the mattress and sank into the first one's ass a couple of minutes. Then he switched to the next one, repeating the process over and over. Their little anuses were dilated now. He could ram his fat cock really hard and hear his nuts slap against their firm tails. The sound of his groans mixed with their boyish squeals as he sodomized them raw.

His balls had never felt so heavy, carrying all that sauce. He aimed his canon at their adorable faces. A few wanks and his cock began unloading his boiling sperm. The little squirts stayed there, in the shower of semen. The abundant cream arched in the air, landing on their button noses. Fierce blasts splashed on their rosy cheeks. The slimy substance streamed down their cute mugs.

The young man contemplated his mess and fondled his softening prick. He fell on the bed, utterly exhausted. The kids remained there, awaiting their next order. "Go wash up," he said, and watched them disappear in the bathroom.

"I brought you a snack before you hit the sack," Mr. Brown spoke, entering the bedroom.

"Thank you, I am drained!"

"Did you enjoy my special present?"

"Very much," Harold replied, jumping on the ham sandwich offered to him and wolfing it down without delay. "I got get me one of those robots!" he affirmed, between mouthfuls.

"You know, they cost twenty seven million dollars each," the old man crowed. "But sometimes, we loan them to friends of the house."

The young teacher's face lit up. "That would be very nice," he said, watching the pale weathered hand of the old man slip suddenly behind his neck and massage the nape. "What are you doing?" he asked, gulping down a ball of bread. He stared up at the passive mask of the elder. "You're a tad too old for my taste!"

Mr. Brown's fingers caressed the back of his head. They found the little lump and applied pressure. Harold's eyelids closed and he collapsed forward.

"Good night, Mr. Langdon," the old man murmured, patting down the synthetic hair on top of his skull. "You've been a very useful android. We have learned a lot from you."

The End ?