J.O. Dickingson

The Gargoyle of Male Fecundity

Chapters 19-20

Chapter 19

Ray sent everyone an email in mid-December, nine days before Christmas, to report that he, Michael and their oldest son Davey had received an early Christmas present. Michael had given birth to a six-pound seven-ounce [2,900 gram] bouncing baby boy whom they'd named Saul, making him the fourth baby they knew of that had been born without the use of suppositories. Christmas was always an exciting and festive time, especially for those families who had children, and it was doubly so for those whose children had children of their own. Billy's mom and dad traditionally alternated their Christmases, spending one year at his dad's parents with his dad's side of the family and the next year at one of his mom's brothers or sisters who rotated putting on the supper for her side of the family. This year it was his mom's turn to put on the Christmas dinner, which was great because it allowed him to not only spend Christmas with his grandparents and other relatives on his mom's side of the family, but it also allowed him and his cousin Taylor to slip away for a few hours and spend some Christmas time with their own sons, Billy's four year old son Billy Bob and five month old son Nathan, and Taylor's eight month old son Jacob. Bobby had managed to join them at the Bernstein-Fields Mission for Boys for two hours Christmas Eve and an hour Christmas morning before heading out to celebrate Christmas with his wife's side of the family, which made this Christmas even more enjoyable.

Thanks to the generous funds and push provided by the Rana Anshar Ministry, modernization of the old orphanage had proceeded rapidly over the past five months. The building was to be officially opened the second of January. The first priority had been the total revamping of the girls dormitory to make a nursery and a play room for the babies currently being looked after, Jimmy and Calvin's two twenty-two-month-old sons, Aaron's son JB who was a week older, and Billy's son Nathan, all living there permanently, and Taylor's eight-month-old son Jacob staying there during the day when Jacob was at school and his parents were working. Space for extra cribs had been provided with the anticipation there would be more babies and toddlers staying at the Mission temporarily until proper homes were found for them. Promotional ads had already been sent to doctors and social service agencies promoting the Mission's function as an adoption agency for unwed mothers-to-be. Although their purpose was to place baby boys with boylovers, they realized there would be couples applying for adoption who would not be suited for that purpose so they decided to also accept baby girls for those couples, eliminating the criticism of the equal rights group campaigning for services for females and providing a cover for their real purpose.

Also of priority had been the modernization of the boys dormitory, expanding the living space and providing moveable walls to create single and multiple occupancy rooms so that they were more like bedrooms in keeping with the group home concept being adopted by the Mission. Of the remaining nine residents of the original orphanage, the three girls had been sent out of state, not without a fight and criticism from local feminist and women's groups. They, however, found arguing with a ministry with offices overseas a futile exercise. The two youngest boys had been adopted as a result of the publicity when it was announced the orphanage was closing, and one of the boys who was a brother to one of the girls had been sent along with the girls as they did not want to break up the family. That left three boys left to be looked after by the Mission, all boys difficult to place in adoptions. Two were brothers, five and seven years of age, difficult to adopt since most prospective parents weren't willing to adopt two boys, and especially not that old. The third boy, Shawn, was fourteen and no parents wanted to adopt a child already in his teens. All three boys were discouraged but they were delighted with their new rooms, and Shawn had eagerly accepted his new duties of looking after the babies and toddlers after school and on weekends, giving him a renewed sense of worth. The kitchen and boy's washroom had been modernized, the girl's washroom greatly reduced, and a social area, small library and games room had been added to the facility. Again promotional materials had been sent out advertising the Mission's purpose of providing counselling and social support services for boys who had lost their parents or had to be separated from them because they were in abusive homes, and of providing a group home for troubled boys. Of course the unwritten purpose again was to place such boys in caring homes with men who could provide the boys the love and support they needed.

One of the rooms in the orphanage had been a small sick room where they had kept a first aide supply and where children could go and lie down if they were not feeling well, and where the public health nurse could administer vaccinations to the orphanage's children and staff. The room had been expanded with the intention of eventually adding a male nurse to the staff, one trained in child health and in obstetrics in anticipation of there being more babies born in the unconventional way. In addition, the office area had been totally revamped to provide counselling rooms, a reception room, and administrative and secretarial office space with the modern office furniture and the best technology available. No costs had been spared in providing for the Bernstein-Fields Mission for Boys.

The day after the Mission opened, Billy received a frantic call from Nicholas. Kerry, now commencing his third trimester, could no longer hide his swelling belly from his parents with oversized shirts and baggy trousers. Needless to say they were alarmed by the abnormal swelling of his abdomen, which looked like he'd swallowed the Christmas cake whole, and had made an appointment for him to see their family doctor. That the six-year-old boy was heavy with child, Nicholas's child, was going to be a shock to the family physician, and to the soon-to-be grandparents. It was Calvin who came up with the solution. They would use the nursing/obstetrics room of the Mission for the examination and have Ted Marple pose as a specialist doctor. Of all the adults they knew, Ted looked the most like you'd expect a doctor to look, and he would have the easiest time booking an hour off from work. Calvin called the office of the Kilpatrick's family physician cancelling the appointment, and called the Kilpatricks telling them an appointment had been made directly with a specialist in childhood diseases to examine Kerry, which given their money and position and the years the doctor had been their family physician they did not find unusual.

The Kilpatricks, accustomed to the very best, were immediately impressed with the Mission, the ornate sandstone exterior having been cleaned and restored back to its original grandeur while the interior had been thoroughly renovated and modernized without compromising the integrity of the historic building, including the hardwood floors. They were equally impressed with the manner of the receptionist who greeted them with the respect and attention individuals in their social position were accustomed to without being sycophantic. That the receptionist was a twenty-year-old male with thick, luxurious hair six inches [15 cm] past his shoulders, dangling jade earrings and an eyebrow ring wasn't a surprise either, given this was a facility for young boys. They would have been surprised if they'd been told the same individual two years ago was a drug addict, pusher and high school dropout with greasy, unkept black hair, bloodshot eyes, and an attitude. They would have been even more surprised if they'd been told this was one of the copartners in the Bernstein-Fields Mission for Boys.

Calvin had removed his nose and tongue studs and his lip ring and changed out of his Heavy Metal T-shirt and jeans into a conservative shirt and cords for the occasion, though he had kept on his Nike Airwalks. He was still skinny despite having abstained from drugs for over two years now and eating regularly and healthily, at least as healthy as one can expect any twenty-year-old who'd grown up on fast food, pizza and Coke. His attitude had changed drastically since falling in love with Jimmy and the birth of their two sons, and was undergoing further changes as he assumed his new responsibilities as copartner in the Mission. He had taken on most of the work actually with Jimmy having a full grade twelve load, handling phone calls inquiring about the Mission both nationally and internationally and meeting with agencies and professionals to promote the Mission since September, so acting the role of receptionist was not that difficult, though the fact he was meeting with a multimillionaire and his wife was daunting for someone who until six months ago was more accustomed to associating with drug dealers and pimps.

The Kilpatricks were also impressed with the promptness of their meeting with the specialist. He seemed young to be a specialist, but with the advances being made in medicine they wanted someone who was obviously up on the most current research in his field and from the looks of the Mission they only hired the best. Ted met with them in one of the counselling offices and took down the basics, name, age, medical history and insurance information and had them sign the appropriate forms that the Rana Anshar Ministry had provided with the assurance that all the legal work had been put in place so they could bill the medical insurance companies for his services, which would be nominal considering he wasn't providing any, but necessary to keep up the pretense the Kilpatricks had seen a doctor.

He then took Kerry to the nursing/obstetrics room. Of course Kerry had been told in advance that the specialist knew about pregnant boys and would keep his secret so he had nothing to worry about, and Ted told him he had a boy who'd gotten pregnant, though he didn't reveal he was the father of his son's child. Having the boy open his shirt and lower his baggy trousers and the men's boxers Nicholas had boughten for him, Ted examined his stomach. The boy had obviously entered his third trimester, his stomach having gained a good seven pounds [3 kg] and the baby having pushed his intestines upward as it grew, eliminating the boy's waist and indeed, looking like he'd swallowed the Christmas fruit cake without stopping to chew it as his father had observed. He gently palpitated the swollen abdomen. It was firm. Over the next six weeks it would likely double in size. A dark line extended from his navel to his naked pubes, and his areola and nipples had darkened. The boy was otherwise thin and pale, accenting the darkening of his teats and the swelling of his belly.

Ted did of course know what Kerry was going through from his experience with his son Taylor and having read up on pregnancy during that time so he was able to advise the pregnant six-year-old boy on how to handle the physical problems he was currently having and what he could expect in the next month and a half, and tell him what he was going to tell his parents. He had, after consulting with Harold and talking to Bobby prior to the Kilpatrick's appointment, come up with an explanation for Kerry's extended stomach: a round worm infection. Having the boy do up his shirt and pull his pants and boxers back up, Ted inhaled deeply, in part out of nervousness over the lies he was about to tell, and in part out of arousal. Seeing the young boy's swollen stomach had gotten him aroused. There was something about the sight of a young, pregnant boy and the knowledge that he had a little baby developing inside him that was highly erotic.

Returning to the conference room with Kerry, Ted explained to Kerry's parents that the pills he was providing would kill off the worms but that it would take at least five weeks, during which time Kerry's stomach would continue to swell, likely even more drastically than it had recently, which would give him backaches and make it difficult for him to get up on his feet and to sit down, and to find a comfortable position for sleeping at night. He also explained that the medication would likely make him sweat and pee a lot, and likely give him swollen feet. In actuality, the pills were nothing more than sugar candy.

"Now those symptoms are familiar," observed Mister Kilpatrick.

"They are?" asked his wife.

"They sound just like when you were pregnant with Karalee and with Kerry."

"Now you mention it, it does."

"There are similarities," agreed Ted with a grin. "In fact with the worms absorbing a lot of Kerry's nutrition, you'll probably find him eating like he is eating for two." He smiled at Kerry and Kerry smiled back at him.

"So is there anything special we need to be doing until he… ah, gets rid of these things?"

"No. Plenty of liquids and no strenuous exercise for the next month. In fact it would be best for him to stay off his feet as much as possible. As his stomach continues to swell, he might find it difficult breathing. A body pillow or some extra pillows to help prop him up in bed might make breathing and sleeping easier for him. Right now his body is extra sensitive to touch, but that is perfectly normal. If he does start feeling stomach cramps or leg cramps, contact us immediately. You have the number of the Mission?" he asked. The two parents nodded, looking at their son with concern. "When he does begin to, ah, evacuate the, ah, worms, it could be a bit painful and, ah, messy, sort of like being constipated," he continued. Although he'd rehearsed the lines dozens of times, it was awkward saying them, especially with Kerry sitting there and knowing it was a pile of lies. "It would be best to book him in here for a day or two when the time comes. Let's say five weeks from today." From what Kerry had told him, that should give them a sufficient margin.

"Here?"

"Yes. The Mission is sponsoring my work, and they can provide a much more personal and private care than a hospital can."

"Yes, I can see how they could," agreed Mister Kilpatrick. "Well, thank you, doctor," he said as Ted got to his feet and extended his hand.

***

Nicholas's chauffeur dropped him off at the Kilpatricks the following Saturday evening to check on Kerry. Nick knew that was suspicious, a thirteen-year-old boy coming to spend Saturday night with a sick six-year-old, but he was concerned about Kerry's health, particularly since he was fifty percent responsible for his condition, and besides, he was a typical teenage boy, horny as a horned toad, and even though he knew they couldn't do anything with Kerry's parents at home and considering his condition, he figured they might at least do a little smooching.

"So, how are you feeling?" he asked, sitting on the edge of Kerry's bed.

"Okay."

"That didn't sound very convincing."

"Really. I'm okay," Kerry replied.

"You're sure."

"Yeah." They sat in silence for a minute. "I can feel him moving," he whispered with a smile.

"You're kidding!"

"Un-unh. Feel."

Nicholas slipped his hand under Kerry's shirt and inside his pants. His stomach felt so firm and big. Nicholas's teenage dick began to swell.

"There. Did you feel that?"

"Yeah. That's wicked!" He gently caressed Kerry's swollen stomach, lightly running his fingertips over the smooth flesh, following the curve of his bump down to his smooth pubes. "You're beautiful."

"I'm starting to look like an umbrella, and I'm getting tits like a girl," he protested.

"Yeah, well, you're a beautiful umbrella, and you gotta get tits so you can feed our baby," Nicholas said, running his hands up over the curve of his beloved's stomach and up the gentle slope to his chest. He was getting breasts. They were bigger than some of the girls in his grade seven class had. He followed the bottom curve of first one and then the other with the tips of his fingers. The crease where they joined his body was sweaty. He slowly ran his fingers up and circled each of his nipples, careful not to touch them. They had gotten bigger too, and he knew they were super sensitive.

"I've popped a boner," Kerry said, breathing heavily.

Nicholas ran his fingers back down, up the slope of his distended belly and down the bottom curve and over his sweaty pubes. His little dicklet was hard as a nail. "So have I," Nick said huskily, taking Kerry's hand with his other hand and placing it on his crotch. Kerry could feel the firmness and heat through Nicholas's underwear and trousers.

"Let's fuck."

"Your parents are downstairs."

"They won't come up. Not while you're here." That was probably true. They never had in the past anyway. One or the other came up to check on him every thirty minutes when he was alone so they welcomed the break when Nicholas visited. Kerry was always cheered up by his visits so they encouraged them, and left them alone when he was there. He was a good boy to be so concerned, especially considering how much younger Kerry was. At first they'd thought he was just using it as an excuse to see Kerry's sister Karalee, but it soon became evident that it really was Kerry that he'd come to see and they were ashamed of their suspicions. He was a very decent boy.

"We shouldn't, you know, in your condition."

"We should. The doctor said it would be okay."

"He wasn't a real doctor, you know."

"I know. But his son had a baby, so he knows about this stuff." Kerry had pulled down Nick's fly and now had his fingers inside. He found the opening to his briefs and slipped his fingers in the opening. Nick sighed as he felt Kerry's hot fist wrap around his swollen, aching bone. It felt so good. "Being pregnant has made me extra horny for you."

"How can you tell?" Nick asked, leaning over and kissing Kerry on the lips. "You've been extra horny ever since I met you." Kerry giggled and slipped his tongue in Nick's mouth, running it over Kerry's own hot, slippery tongue. Nick had read about that on the Internet and had taught him how to do it. That was one of the many things about Nick that he loved. His tongue raised up and duelled with his and Nick's stiff cock throbbed hotly in his clenched fist.

"Your dick wants to do it."

Nicholas could not deny that. He could understand how being preggers made Kerry extra horny. Just the thought of the six-year-old carrying his baby, or the memory of the last time he'd seen his pregnant little body naked caused him to pop a boner himself, and it didn't matter where it was, at the supper table with his parents, sitting beside his best friend on the school bus going to school, or sitting at his desk during math class. He couldn't stop thinking about Kerry and picturing his naked, pregnant body, and the result was always the same. Fortunately it wasn't unusual for teenage boys to pop boners, and even more fortunately, those who noticed had no way to know he was thinking about a six-year-old boy and not a girl.

He could not resist. Pushing up Kerry's shirt and easing his trousers and boxers over his distended stomach and down his legs, he quickly undid his belt and unsnapped his trousers and pushed them and his underwear down. His stiff, teenage cock sprang up, eager to begin, the tip already dripping with pre-cum. Kerry rolled over on his side and Nicholas snuggled up behind him, the position they'd begun using lately. It was more comfortable for Kerry, and penetrating him from behind was easier and let Nick get his dick further in him now that he was developing a belly.

To Nick's delight his teenage dick had slowly been growing over the past three months, in length and in thickness. It was still slender so his slippery pre-cum would have been enough lube, but it was thick in his mind and besides, he didn't want Kerry to have to strain and maybe do something to himself, and so he had been using Vaseline this past month and had gotten into the habit of always carrying a tube with him. Today fortunately was no exception. He squeezed out a generous dollop now and applied it to Kerry's eager opening, pushing it inside his rectum with his fingertips and then inserting one greasy finger and then the next to lube him up inside. As he inserted each finger, Kerry clamped his sphincter down tight on each digit as it withdrew and Nick could not wait to insert his swollen penis. Wiping his greasy fingers off on the shaft and smearing his pre-cum over his knob, he shuffled into position. Placing the tip of his slimy, pre-cum slickened knob against Kerry's greased hole, he grasped the boy's hips and slowly pushed his own forward.

Kerry instantly and eagerly opened up to him. He had not been exaggerating when he'd said being pregnant made him extra horny. This past month the slightest brush against his penis had it instantly erect, and the mere touch of his trousers against the inside of his thighs or the brush of his shirt against his super sensitive and enlarged nipples made his entire body ache for the penetration of Nick's penis. Now as he felt it stretching open his anus he wanted to shout out with joy and although Nick had told him repeatedly not to, he contracted his stomach muscles and pushed out to open his anus. Feeling his baby-their baby-move inside him, he immediately stopped pushing. He didn't want the baby to be born too early, and he knew if the baby came too soon it could die, or they'd need special equipment to keep it alive, and under their circumstances, they couldn't do that. Fortunately by then Nick's knob was inside him.

Despite the risks involved, the two boys could not resist having sex with each other, and the act that brought them the greatest pleasure was the one they were about to engage in. Each time they engaged in it the better it seemed, and with Kerry's pregnancy that pleasure seemed to have doubled. The presence of the little being inside him had sensitized his body so that the slightest touch was orgasmic. Touching his nipples caused them to become hard instantly, and the swollen areola burned with an intensity that was as painful as it was pleasurable. The slightest brush along the inside of his thighs gave him an instant erection, and each touch thereafter sent shards of sweet pain through his swollen flesh that only a vigorous wanking could satisfy and created an itch deep up his rectum that a furious finger fucking was a poor second to having a hard, hot cock shoved up his asshole.

It was the same for Nick. Ever since he'd first seen the six-year-old, Nicholas had desired his body, and after their first fuck he could not get enough of his ass. Kerry's pregnancy had only magnified his lust for the boy. The sight of his enlarged nipples and budding breasts send ripples of desire through Nick's groin as he imagined their child sucking on those boy breasts and Kerry's sweet milk spurting out and into his mouth. The growing bulge below his navel was a constant reminder that he was carrying their child and his body ached with lust with that thought. Fucking him had brought him an immense pleasure; fucking him while he was carrying his child was the ultimate pleasure of all.

And so the two of them united there in Kerry's bedroom with his parents downstairs and his older sister in the bedroom beside them wondering what sort of weirdo came to spend Saturday night with her kid brother and totally ignored her. He evidently had not grown up yet, and that was a shame considering his handsome good looks and hot body. She turned up her stereo and concentrated on the music to block out her memory that he was right next door. Fortunately for the two boys, the music penetrated the wall between them and drowned out the music of their passionate lovemaking.

Nick pumped his hips in time to the music, slippin' into the lava of Kerry's hot rectum, pumping faster and faster as he felt his own lava churning deep in his young, early teen balls as they began to swell. Faster and faster he pumped his hips, driving his rigid, aching cock in and out of the volcano that was Kerry's asshole, his aching cock growing numb and seeming to swell larger and larger with each thrust. He was burnin' up for the six-year-old in bed with him and he grasped him tightly as he fucked his beautiful ass, driving his stiff cock in and out of his body as he wrapped his arms about him, about his swollen stomach bulging out with their child.

As he felt Nick's cock pumping in and out of his body faster and faster, Kerry closed his eyes with the ecstasy of Nick's love, his stiff, hot cock satisfying the itch deep up his rectum. He could hear him snorting and gasping with his lust over the pounding of the music as he thrust his cock in and out of him and as his hands slid down over the curve of his bulging stomach, the right one descending further to fiddle with his swollen, aching little cocklet. He trembled with the pleasure pulsating through the slender, swollen flesh and with the irritation of his blood-engorged knob as Nick's fingers began to pump his aching little cocklet. His fingers slipped up and down the stiff little tube faster and faster, bringing him faster and faster to that exquisite pleasure that only a boy can know.

The two of them gasped for breath as they felt the pressure increasing deep in their loins and Nick's hips pounded to and fro and his fingers pumped furiously on Kerry's little dickey, his hips and his fingers racing, trying to keep ahead of the pressure building up and building up, the two of them trying to keep from going under, wanting to delay it but wanting it so badly they risked discovery to achieve it. Inhaling and exhaling deeply with their exertion and their lust, they clenched their eyes and arched their bodies as they exploded, shards of pleasure ripping through Kerry's loins and causing him to buck and twist uncontrollably as Nick's hot lava raced up the core of his swollen, numb cock and erupted out the tip with a sharp, burning pleasure, shooting deep up Kerry's rectum. Spurt after watery spurt erupted out of his throbbing cock, his early teen balls drawn up tight under the swollen flesh, his right hand grasping Kerry's throbbing little dickey and his left arm wrapped about his swollen belly. In the dizziness of their orgasms, they felt him, their baby, spasm and they wondered if their little unborn baby was having an orgasm of his own.

***

Friday, February 10, Kerry was admitted at the Bernstein-Fields Mission for Boys, dangerously close to his due time, and arrangements were made to have Nicholas stay with him for moral support, the two boys having become almost inseparable this past month. The next day was a Valentine's dance and fund raiser that both the Billingsworths and Kilpatricks had planned on attending. Kerry's parents were going to back out even though 'Doctor' Marple assured them that there was no need and that there was nothing to worry about, but they changed their mind with the knowledge that Nicholas would be there with their son.

Kerry's contractions began the following evening. Billy had arranged to have a sleep over with his cousin Taylor that night in anticipation that Kerry might be giving birth that weekend, so the two boys were at the Mission playing with their babies at the time. With the two boys, Aaron, Jimmy and Calvin all there, there were plenty of birth fathers present to assure Kerry and Nicholas that everything was going to be all right.

"It's time," Ted announced, timing Kerry's last contraction. Raising Kerry and slipping several pillows under his hips, he turned to Nicholas. "You know what you have to do?" Nicholas nodded. "All right, everyone, I think they'd like a little privacy. I'll leave the door open and wait in the hallway. Just call when Kerry is ready to deliver."

Nick looked at Kerry laying there on the bed in obvious pain, the oversized shirt he'd been wearing pulled up to reveal his swollen stomach and his privates and in his position, his asshole. He looked like he'd swallowed a watermelon whole. "Actually, we'd like Billy to stay, if he doesn't mind." He was nervous and uncertain about what he had to do and in that Billy had been the one to introduce him to cornholing, and had given birth to two babies himself, he felt more confident having him there in case anything went wrong.

"Sure."

"Me too. I wanna stay too," asserted Billy Bob.

"Sure. You can stay too," Nicholas said with a smile. After all, his sex life had all begun with the blow job the little tyke had given him back in November, a year and two months ago.

Kerry clenched his teeth and arched his back as the next contraction hit. Ted quickly ushered everyone else out and Nicholas quickly removed his shoes and chucked his jeans and underwear. "I can't believe a baby can come out of that little hole," the dark-haired, handsome thirteen-year-old said as he began stroking himself. He'd been afraid he'd be too worried or too self-conscious to get an erection, but seeing Kerry laying there with his legs spread and imaging his baby-their baby-poking his head out of his asshole was so erotic he popped a boner in no time. Greasing up his stiff early teen cock and Kerry's gaping asshole generously with Vaseline with Billy Bob's help, the four-year-old having crawled up onto the bed beside Kerry, he knelt between the pregnant six-year-old's legs and inserted the tip of his cock in his greased opening. His dick was typical for a boy his age, slender and just over four inches long, and he and Kerry had been doing this regularly for the past four months right up to a week ago so he had no difficulty penetrating the younger boy. It was strange being expected to fuck him when any minute now he was going to be giving birth, but that was what they'd said he had to do. He could not see how either one of them was going to be able to enjoy it, and the pleasure of doing it was what fucking was all about.

"Better move over baby, here comes your daddy's dick," observed Billy Bob seriously as he addressed Kerry's swollen stomach, causing the three boys to laugh.

Nicholas began to slowly pump his hips to and fro, driving his stiff young cock in and out of the pregnant boy's asshole and Kerry reached down and began to stroke his own cock. Between his stroking and the stimulation of having his asshole fucked, his little dicklet quickly grew hard, the erotic stimulation of his anus and his dickhead overpowering his apprehension and his discomfort, as it was intended on doing. The two boys concentrated on the pleasure pulsating through their cocks and on the warm satisfaction of knowing the pleasure they were bringing each other. As that pleasure increased so did the speed of their lovemaking. At first Nicholas had been careful and gentle, not wanting to harm his pregnant boymate nor their baby, and Kerry too had begun by stroking himself slowly, his mind more on the cramps in his stomach than on the itchiness of his swollen dicklet. Nicholas soon began to fuck the pregnant six-year-old faster and more vigorously as his young, stiff cock began to throb and the sensitive knob began to itch, the pleasure throbbing between his legs replacing all other thoughts. As the pressure in his loins began to build up, he smiled down at his pregnant boymate and was delighted to see the pleasure reflected in his bright eyes. The idea of his baby slipping out of his boymate's hot, pulsating hole slicked with his cum was so erotic.

He inhaled deeply and plunged his cock in and out of his love's rectum rapidly as he felt himself approaching his climax, unable to believe how erotic it had been. The pleasure pulsating out from his ravaged hole and the pleasure causing his dickhead to tingle and his dicklet to throb numbly had Kerry panting with his approaching orgasm also, the cramps in his stomach forgotten as he constricted and relaxed his sphincter and opened and closed his peehole. As Nicholas began to spurt his watery, early teen cum up the six-year-old's rectum, Kerry began to buck his hips to and fro, impaling himself on his thirteen-year-old lover's stiff cock and then riding back up it, bouncing on the stacked pillows as his dry orgasm caused him to begin to twitch and groan in ecstasy. As his little balls constricted, trying to shoot out what would not exist for many years yet, his appendix and intestines to begin to contract and expand, forcing his baby into his ascending colon.

"I think it's happening," he gasped excitedly. "I can feel him fuckin' moving!"

Nicholas drew out his cock, still stiff and shining with Kerry's ass slime and his thin, early teen cum and the Vaseline, and Kerry's asshole, doubly lubed with Vaseline and with slippery, early teen cum, dilated and constricted as Kerry desperately pushed out with his stomach muscles, forcing his baby into his descending colon. Unaware he was still rapidly wanking his numb, swollen cocklet, he pounded on the stiff little wiener so hard it was a surprise he didn't yank it off. His chest heaving with exertion and the pleasure of his orgasm, he grunted and snorted like a constipated old man as he pushed out with his stomach with all his strength. His rectum filled and ever so slowly he felt his anus once again being stretched, but this time the pressure was coming from inside his bowels.

"It's happening," called Billy. "Keep pushing."

"Com'on baby," encouraged Billy Bob, leaning over and hollering up Kerry's gaping asshole. "Com'on out. It's nice out here."

Ted of course had heard the boys and had come back into the room. Having Kerry grasp his hands for support, he told Nicholas to continue wanking his love's stiff, abused little cocklet, knowing that the stimulus would help the boy's contractions and counteract his pain.

"He's coming! Keep pushing!" encouraged Billy.

"I fuckin' am!" screamed Kerry angrily.

And then the head, his dark hair slick and matted with ass slime and shit and cum and Vaseline was poking out of the pregnant six-year-old's straining asshole. Billy reached out as the shoulders appeared and slowly pulled, guiding the baby out. Red as a lobster, especially his face, and covered with ass slime, shit, cum and Vaseline from his slimy head to his streaked little feet, he was beautiful. Warm, damp towels had already been laid out and Ted took the squirming, squalling infant and wiped him off quickly while Billy and Nicholas slipped the stacked pillows out from under the hips of the exhausted, anxious six-year-old father. Ted placed the newborn in his birth father's arms and Kerry looked down at him with a happy, proud grin, and then up at his teenage lover.

"Hi, little baby," greeted Billy Bob as the infant instinctively curled up in Kerry's arms and the two proud parents beamed down at him.

***

Three days later two more couples were anxiously awaiting the birth of their child, Kwame Meridith's parents at the MLK Memorial Hospital, Kwame's mother on her back and her feet in the stirrups in the maternity ward with his father holding her hand and deep breathing in time with her, and Kwame and his uncle Nat at the Bernstein-Fields Mission for Boys, Kwame on his back with his rump raised on a stack of pillows and his uncle stripped from the waist down and stroking his long, black sausage. It had been an unbelievable four and a half months, beginning with his unsatiable lust for his six-year-old nephew and the boy's phenomenal sexual stamina. That first time, screwing the boy in his bedroom while Kwame's parents were humping in the bedroom beside them, had been the beginning of an awesome sexual marathon, and each time they did it, the better it was, whether it was pulled off on the side of the road on the way home mutually jerking each other off in the front seat of the car, a hot sixty-nine as an appetizer before supper and before his sister and brother-in-law returned home from work, or a wild and hot all-out fuck in his bedroom or Kwame's before Kwame's bedtime while his parents were on evening shifts. He could not get enough of the boy, and the boy could not get enough of his cock.

The second surprise came three months ago, a month and a half after he and Kwame had begun having sex. It was another day that he would never forget. He'd dropped by the Kiddyland Daycare to pick up Kwame as he always did for his sister and brother-in-law and the two of them were heading across the parking lot to his car when he was approached by a big, imposing man, six-foot-four [1.93 m] and two-hundred-and-seventy pounds [122 kg]. Despite his size and appearance, he was a soft-spoken, gentle man. He introduced himself and said he was the father of Billy Bob. And then he said he had to talk to him about what he and his nephew were doing.

Nat's heart had sunk. Although he'd been careful and had warned Kwame about the dangers of others finding out about their relationship, he knew there was always the chance of being discovered. Kwame had to have revealed their secret, most likely to Billy Bob with whom he seemed to be particularly close friends, and Billy Bob had to have told his father. It was only natural, Kwame being only six. Their relationship had been so delightful that even he wished he could share his joy with someone. Actually, he wished he could shout it out from the rooftops for the whole world to know. He could not blame the boy, nor could he deny what they had been doing. All he could do was admit it and beg for the stranger's mercy. The last thing he wanted was for Kwame to have to talk to some cops or social welfare types about their secret. Inhaling deeply, he was prepared to do whatever the man demanded of him.

His next surprise was that Bobby had not come to beat the shit out of him nor was he going to report him. He was neither incensed nor repulsed over what they'd been doing, the two reactions most people had. Why he had come, Nat would never have guessed. He had come to warn him that Kwame quite likely was pregnant, with his child. The guy wasn't on a righteous mission to protect children from evil men such as himself and keep them ignorant of the pleasures of sex. He did not want to stop them from engaging in what for them was very beautiful and fulfilling. No, he was simply a nut case. That at least was a relief.

Taking the man's phone number and promising to call him at the first sign that Kwame was pregnant, he made a hasty exit, thankful that he hadn't needlessly blurted out a confession. Even if the guy did decide to report him for having sex with a minor, nobody was going to believe a guy who thought a six-year-old boy could become pregnant.

Over the next month he did notice Kwame was adding on the pounds, especially his stomach and his breasts, but then he was a growing boy and everyone tended to gain weight over the winter months. His nipples had gotten bigger and were more sensitive also, but he didn't find that surprising either considering the frequency with which he was fondling them and sucking on them. Kwame seemed to especially enjoy him nibbling on his teats and he squirmed and screeched with rapture when he flicked his tongue at the boy's hard little maple buds. When Kwame's stomach continued to swell and he found out that Kwame had been feeling nauseous in the mornings he still didn't believe Bobby's warning, even when Kwame's parents observed that the boy was having the same symptoms as his mother, who by then was seven months pregnant and showing it. The three of them had even joked that the boy had to be having sympathy pains in response to his mother's pregnancy.

When Kwame began having trouble breathing and getting up and down, his parents and Nat became more concerned about his health, and as impossible as it was, Nat began to worry about the cause of his 'illness.' So, at last, just before Christmas, he'd phoned Bobby, whose number he fortunately had not thrown away, and they'd had a long and serious talk. He still could not believe Kwame was pregnant, nor that Billy Bob's mother had actually been a six-year-old boy. Even more unbelievable was what Bobby said he and his nephew had to do when Kwame was ready to give birth. Nat didn't know what to think. On the one hand from the things Bobby had said he had sounded like a boylover, but on the other he sounded like he'd escaped from a mental institution.

Promising that when Kwame's due date approached he'd be in touch again, Nat gave no indication he was believing any of it, though he did agree if Kwame was pregnant it would be unwise for him to be examined by a physician. That topic of course eventually did come up, and Nat tried every way he could think of to postpone an appointment though from the way Kwame's stomach was now rapidly swelling he knew he was only delaying the inevitable. So when Bobby had phoned a little over a month ago with a solution to his problem, right after Calvin's solution to the frantic phone call to Billy from Nicholas, Nat quickly agreed to it. The day after his meeting with the Kilpatricks, 'Doctor' Marple met with Kwame's parents and uncle and examined the boy, and gave his prognosis and solution.

Kwame's parents were greatly relieved to know what their son's problem was and that there was a cure for it. They did find it a remarkable coincidence that the symptoms of his condition were so similar to the symptoms his mother had. They found it just as remarkable that Nat had learned about this specialist, and that Kwame would be treated in such an obviously high class facility, and even more so that all costs would be covered by their health insurance. Nat was relieved too, that Kwame was not going to go to a regular doctor who might discover what the boy had been doing, though he was still suspicious that Bobby and this fake doctor that he conveniently knew were running some sort of scam or setting him up for blackmail.

The past month had been a tumultuous four weeks for both of them. Regardless what the cause of Kwame's condition was, it made the boy as horny as a hormone-driven teenager. He was constantly popping a boner, and whenever he could he went about shirtless as the brushing of his shirt against his nipples had them in a permanent state of erection. Nat was in a constant state of erection himself. As unlikely as the prospect was, the possibility that Kwame was carrying their baby was erotic and each time Nat thought about it, which was a couple dozen times a day, Nat's cock raised its head. Just the sight of his ballooning stomach under the tent-like shirts he'd begun wearing had his cock throbbing, and the sight of the boy's naked stomach had his cock stiff and aching with arousal. Kwame had gone from forty-five pounds [20 kg] to seventy-two [33 kg], almost all of it stomach. With his thin arms and legs and his protruding stomach he looked like one of those malnourished kids with bloated stomachs from Africa you saw in ads asking for money, but instead of feelings of sympathy, Nat had feelings of extreme horniness.

Kwame's belly was high and round, like he had swallowed a basketball, giving his lower torso the shape of a black, inverted pear. As reluctant as he was to do anything sexual given Kwame's condition, Nat could not help himself. Kwame loved to having his taut, swollen stomach rubbed and Nat loved to caress the firm, taut bulge, which invariably got them both erect, Kwame's little black wiener looking even smaller beneath his protruding black belly. Laying there naked side by side, Kwame could no more resist stroking his uncles big black cock that had reared its head than Nat could resist tonguing the boy's swollen, sensitive nipples. That lead to the inevitable.

They normally did it laying on their side, or doggy style, and though Nat tried to be gentle and slow, he ended up banging his little nephew with such a ferocity that it was a miracle Nat's bed didn't collapse. Not only that, they did it every chance they got, and on those evenings that Kwame's parents were both at work, they did it several times. Afterwards, as they lay cuddled together, their black bodies flushed and damp with sweat, Nat's large, flaccid cock glistening with his cum and Kwame's asshole oozing his ass slime and his uncle's cum, Nat would feel guilty having given in to temptation, but then Kwame would kiss him and thank him and reach down and fiddle with his black snake, and he would feel so good he was filled with gratefulness that they had been brought together.

Then, when Kwame complained of backaches and leg cramps and heartburn, Nat feared for his nephew's health and worried that he and Kwame were being taken advantage of by a lunatic and that he was foolishly putting the boy's health at risk. He would willingly go to prison before he'd ever let anything happen to Kwame, and on particularly bad days he was prepared to risk everything and take Kwame to emergency and a real doctor. Kwame would insist he was all right however, and the pain would pass and both would be aching to have sex again. Fortunately those down days were rare. Most days Kwame was buoyed up by the idea he was carrying their child, and so he was he, so he put aside his doubts and let it be.

Finally the time arrived. The day after his mother was booked into the MLK Memorial hospital maternity ward, Kwame was booked into the Bernstein-Fields Mission for Boys, and the evening his brother-in-law was about to assist his wife in giving birth to their child, he was about to assist his nephew in giving birth to theirs. Nat was even more uncertain about the logic and the safety of what he was expected to do than Nick had been and not yet convinced his nephew was pregnant. The perverse and unconventional prenatal procedure was not only highly suspicious, but considering the condition of his nephew, he figured potentially harmful. Kwame, on the other hand, was thoroughly convinced he was about to have a baby, his and his uncle's baby. That it involved doing what he particularly enjoyed doing with his uncle and what had caused him to get pregnant in the first place made perfect sense to him and what was about to happen all the more enjoyable. Billy Bob had said he was pregnant and that his uncle had to fuck his bum, and if Billy Bob said it, then it had to be true.

Nat had to admit the presence of the cute little tyke in the room with him and Kwame was comforting and reassuring. The way the tyke talked and looked at you, you'd almost think that he knew what was going on even if he was only four years of age. It was more than that though. Somehow just his presence had a calming effect, as if the toddler's confidence and positiveness were contagious. This Marple fellow was there, along with Bobby who'd come over to affirm the outrageous act Marple had said he had to do, and an eleven-year-old kid who was supposedly Billy Bob's birth father, the three of them waiting in the hallway though he had a suspicion that they hadn't left because of any sense of privacy, but because they were about to tape him in the act he was supposed to perform with the intent of blackmailing him and didn't want to be on the tape.

Although that was his sincere conclusion, he was desperate to help Kwame and was even willing to risk being blackmailed as a boylover or being taped for some kiddy porno video if it meant relieving him of his pain and discomfort. As for the four-year-old being present while he fucked his bloated six-year-old nephew, it was kinky, and he had to admit erotic. Whether it was because it was kinky, or because the strange, curly-haired cherub had some subconscious stimulating ability, he did not know, but having the kid there seemed to increase his arousal. To his surprise, and to Kwame's delight, he was soon erect and as the four-year-old sat there on the bed and stared at the big black cock, it throbbed with arousal. As he removed the cap from the tube of KY, Billy Bob reached for it.

"Lemme help," he said excitedly, taking the tube and squeezing out a dollop into his right hand.

As he smeared the lube over Nat's large, round, plum-coloured and plum-shaped knob, his stiff cock bucked excitedly and thrills of pleasure shot through the blood-engorged flesh.

"Wait, cock, you gotta get greasy first," the four-year-old reprimanded. "He can't wait," he said with a grin as he looked up at the aroused black man.

The boy's look of innocence and purity and the grip of his hot, greasy little hand about his shaft caused Nat's long, thick black monster to throb with pure animal lust. The kid was right, his cock could not wait. Turning his attention to Kwame's exposed hole, the toddler wiped his palm along the boy's ass crack and wiped off his fingers one by one by inserting them up the boy's rectum. The kid had clearly done this before. Perhaps he was wrong about Bobby. He was obviously a boylover, and boylovers didn't set each other up for blackmail. It was still possible he and Ted were setting him up as the unaware star in a kiddy porn video. If that was the case, a hidden cam video of a four-year-old white boy lubing up the thick, erect cock of a black man and the asshole of a six-year-old pregnant black boy that was about to get his ass fucked would sell millions of copies.

Too aroused to stop now, Nat knelt down on the bed between his nephew's outspread legs and placed the tip of his thick, black cock against the boy's tender asshole. He was thicker than most men, and longer, with a knob the size of a plum, but he and the boy were well lubed and they'd done this plenty of times before. The boy's hole was always delightfully tight, but between lube and their eagerness, he'd never had difficulty penetrating the boy. Balancing on his knees and hands as he bent over the boy, he slowly pushed his hips forward and his greased knob slowly stretched open the boy's lubed asshole as the boy pushed out with his stomach, opening up to his uncle as he'd done hundreds of times over the past four and a half months, his stomach cramps and swollen belly momentarily forgotten as he concentrated on helping his uncle penetrate him. Ever so slowly his anus spread open as the large black bulb wedged into it and pressed on. He inhaled deeply and held his breath as he pushed out harder, his eyes narrowing in concentration until he felt the plum pop into his rectum and the corners of his mouth curled with a smile of pleasure and achievement.

He let out his breath and inhaled deeply again as he felt his uncle slowly sink his cock up his rectum until the knob was buried deep up his shit chute and his uncle's thick, throbbing shaft was plugging his rectum. He continued to sink in until his thick, black, coarse hairs were brushing against his little balls and his uncle's large, hairy balls were pressed up against his smooth backside. No matter how many times they did it, it always felt awesome to have his uncle's cock sunk deep up his asshole. It was so large and so hard and it throbbed so hotly and eagerly inside him. The penetration had caused his own little black sausage to become erect, and he reached down now and began to stroke his little black dicklet, unable to see it below his protruding stomach. Thrills of pleasure shot through his little black knob and up his shaft as he stroked his cocklet, and as his uncle slowly eased his cock back out of his rectum thrills of arousal rippled out from his stretched asshole, and his love channel throbbed in time with the thick black sausage stuffing it.

Assaulted by the stimulation of his dickhead and of his anus at the same time, Kwame inhaled and exhaled deeply with pleasure, each stroke of his little stiff cocklet and each stroke of his uncle's big thick sausage increasing his pleasure and the irritation until his entire body seemed to itch with desire and to tense with the sweet pain, as if anticipating the ultimate pleasure to come. His thin chest rose and fell rhythmically and he closed his eyes with the pleasure pulsating through his aroused cocklet and through his stuffed rectum. It seemed like each time he and his uncle did it the more pleasant it was. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, his lungs filling with the scent of the two of them as his mind spiralled higher and higher with each stroke of his itching dicky and with each stroke of his uncle's throbbing cock. Opening his eyelids a slit, he looked up dreamily at his uncle and smiled at the sight of the obvious pleasure on his uncle's face. The physical stimulation of his swollen, irritated dickhead and of his stretched, abused hole were awesome, but the pleasure he felt from giving his uncle such special and intimate pleasure was even greater.

He worked his asshole in time with his uncle's thrusts and withdrawals, actively engaging in their fuck, not just because it increased his pleasure but because he knew it increased his uncle's also. As his uncle began to fuck him faster and more forcefully, he knew that his pleasure was increasing, just as was his own. He knew exactly how his uncle was feeling as the pressure increased deep in his loins, a strange, compelling urgency, a growing anticipation of that final jolt of pleasure that set his loins on fire and that caused his body to flop and jerk like, his uncle said, spit on a hot griddle. He concentrated on that urgency deep inside him as he rapidly jerked his little wiener, his little black fingers wrapped tightly about the tiny dark black tube as he pumped his fist up and down. His breathing was heavy and laboured now, as was his uncle's as his uncle rammed his thick, black cock in and out of his little black ass, plowing him forward and dragging him back in his lust and in his need to reach that magical peak of ecstasy.

Kwame inhaled sharply as he felt the first jolt of his dry orgasm rip through his stiff, abused weenie and deep up his loins like a bolt of lightening, and he arched his back and his body began to jerk and bounce on the bed as if he'd gone berserk. And then he felt his uncle tense and the first of his hot, thick cum shoot up his rectum. It shot out rapidly and forcefully and for the next few seconds his uncle froze in his own dizzy moment of ecstasy and then he began to fuck him even more furiously, ramming his throbbing, spurting cock in and out of his cum-filled hole, his thick black pole slucking through his hot, thick slime obscenely like a hot, lubed piston. The two of them tensed and snorted and grunted with their intense pleasure, the pleasure of their orgasms and the pleasure of having brought the other to that peak of undescribable ecstasy, and Kwame felt the movement begin in his distended belly, a great weight moving in a three-quarter circle to his rectum.

Normally he left his cock up his nephew's rectum as the two relished the delight of their mutual orgasm, but he'd been told once he'd come to draw it out so the birthing process could follow. As Nat did so, Kwame felt the space quickly being filled by something even larger. He gritted his teeth and cried out and he pushed out with his stomach, trying to shit out the impossibly large bulk filling his rectum. He could feel his bowels expanding as if he had to take a tremendous dump and he strained and pushed with his stomach muscles with all his strength. Ted had come in upon hearing his cries and he was now grasping the man's hands tightly and the man was gripping his arms, holding him down as he thrust up with his hips and strained to open his anus wider than it had ever been stretched before. He was vaguely aware of Billy there too, and the big man that was Billy's lover, and little Billy Bob, all of them telling him to push, all of them tense and holding their breath as he pushed and pushed. Never had his anus been stretched open so far and it was painful, but pleasant too, not unlike when his uncle had first penetrated him with his large, swollen knob, or like once when he'd been sick and he had to take a very big dump but his turd was too big and too hard and he had to work at it.

And then just like when his uncle's knob popped inside him, he felt the weight in his rectum pop out, only to be followed by another stretching. In his dizziness and excitement he thought at first he was giving birth to two babies as the voices around him kept telling him to push, but of course what had happened was that the head of his little black baby had emerged from his anus, and his shoulders were following. The rest just seemed to flow out of him, loose and wet, and he lay there totally exhausted and dizzy, his body drenched in sweat, his mind and vision blurred. He heard the cry of a baby and moments later it was placed in his arms, a little five pound, ten ounce [2,550 grams] black baby boy, so small and so light, his little fingers so impossibly tiny, a little boy so impossibly beautiful.

It had been a joyous Valentine's day, Kwame giving birth on the same day as his mother gave birth to his little brother, and it being the second birthday of Aaron's little son, JB, besides. A week later was the second birthday of JB's two cousins, Jimmy and Calvin's two babies. A couple days after that, what had become known as the birthing room had another two occupants.

***

It had been Taylor, Aaron and Billy who had first approached Joshua and warned him, and like Kerry and Kwame before him the seven-year-old was delighted with the news and not overly surprised. After having gotten his first blow job under the table at a restaurant from a three-year-old toddler in the presence of his parents, Nicholas had been nonplussed by the idea of him and Kerry having a baby. Nat, on the other hand, had doubted it all the way to the end, even as he was fucking his pregnant nephew in the birthing room. Deputy Fire Chief Norm Sagget had been bemused when approached by Joshua and the three youngsters along with Billy Bob.

"Pregnant," he repeated with a smile, looking at Joshua and then at each of the others.

"Uh-huh," Joshua said, nodding his head.

"You know Joshua's a boy?" he said, making no attempt to hide his amusement as he glanced at the crowd of boys. When he'd seen the group of them approaching, he'd wondered what they were up to now. That they'd come to inform him that he and Joshua were to be parents was not what he'd expected!

"We're all boys. 'Cept you. You're a man," Billy Bob pronounced confidently. "But we all got pickles."

"That's what Billy Bob calls penises," Billy explained when Norm had looked at the tyke curiously.

"Boys can't have babies," he advised the toddler. He'd noticed Joshua had been getting quite a tummy, and he'd joked with him about his voracious appetite, but pregnant? That was funny.

"They can," Billy observed. "We've all had babies," he said, glancing at Aaron and Taylor.

"Billy Bob is Billy's baby."

"Billy's my little father," Billy Bob said proudly, giving his little father a big hug. "An' I love 'im."

"Billy Bob planted a seed inside Joshua so he could make babies."

"A seed?" Norm reaffirmed, still smiling.

"Uh-huh," said Billy Bob. "When I fucked his bum." Norm stared at the four-year-old, his smile still fixed on his face in surprise. He'd heard that word often, but never out of the mouth of a four-year-old. "So you could make a baby when you fucked 'im."

"That's okay," said Billy reassuringly. "We know you do it. We just wanted to let you know why Joshua's getting a big tummy, and why he's been getting sick in the morning."

"You've been getting sick in the morning?"

Joshua nodded self-consciously.

"It takes four and a half months," Billy advised. "If Joshua's mom wants to take him to a doctor, she should phone this number and ask for Doctor Marple." He handed Norm one of the Bernstein-Fields Mission for Boys business cards. "He's a boylover too so you don't gotta worry about him knowing how Joshua got pregnant. And when the time comes, you can take Joshua there to have his baby."

"I can help deliver 'im," Billy Bob offered. "I'm a real good helper, aren't I?" he asked, looking up at Billy.

"You sure are," he said, reaching down and giving the moppet's curly hair a tousle. You could see his fondness for the toddler in his eyes. "Anyway, we just thought you should know what was happening," he said, addressing Norm.

As he watched the five boys heading up the street, he shook his head in wonderment. He'd never met boys quite like those five. He was still shaking his head a couple weeks later when Joshua's mother mentioned she was concerned about his health and thinking of taking time off from work to take him to a doctor and worried how much it would cost as she didn't have any health insurance, and again when he took Joshua to the Mission for her and 'Doctor' Marple confirmed the real reason for Joshua's swollen stomach and suggested the fake story about having worms.

He had not taken any of it seriously, and he still could not believe it when he took Joshua back to the Mission eleven days after Kwame, not even as he stood there and watched the baby streaked with shit and KY and his cum emerging out of Joshua's asshole. All he could do was shake his head in amazement at the miracle as he stood there staring slack-jawed at the little bundle of joy in Joshua's arms.

***

The conversation with Stevie Tudor's boylover Peter did not go so smoothly. It was Bobby who made the initial approach, and considering the sensitivity of the topic, it was decided he approach Peter alone. Fortunately Peter had made coming to the same park to play ball with Stevie a routine as Bobby had no phone number nor address by which to contact him. Understandably, Peter became immediately defensive, accusing Bobby of accusing him of being a pedo, and proclaiming adamantly that he would never molest a child. He was so busy defending himself and denying everything that he didn't listen to a word Bobby was saying. Try as he could, Bobby could not convince him he wasn't making any accusations and had approached him so he'd be forewarned and could avoid what would be a disastrous situation if his secret was found out, for himself and for Stevie, and one that could potentially spread to Bobby and the others. Fortunately Bobby had Billy Bob find out Stevie's name and address before he'd approached Peter because Peter threw away his phone number and thereafter stopped bringing Stevie to the park in order to avoid Bobby.

As the weeks progressed, in desperation they decided to have Ted approach Steven's father, telling him they'd done a routine checkup on grade one students at Steven's school and were concerned about his health and would like him to come in for a more thorough examination. Steven's father exploded, saying he'd know if his son was ill or not, and accusing Ted of examining his son without his permission and of running a scam to drum up patients for the money and a half dozen other things. It was only because Stevie's stomach continued to swell and his morning sickness got progressively worse, and because his wife had risked her husband's temper and bullying to express her concerns, that he finally contacted Ted, and then his main concern was not Stevie's health but how much this was going to cost him. It was only because of Ted's assurance that it would not cost him anything that he agreed to make an appointment.

He was further irritated that his wife insisted he come with her to the appointment, and that he had to take time off from work to bring Steven in so he arrived in a foul mood to begin with. When he heard Ted's diagnosis, he blamed the boy for the situation he was in, going so far as to accuse him of being stupid enough to eat worms. Of course, unbeknownst to his father, Stevie did have a large responsibility for the condition he was in. Even so, it was all Ted could do to keep his temper and refrain from socking the man, being a father himself. He shuddered to think what the man would do if he knew the truth.

Fortunately Billy had brought Billy Bob over to the Mission after school that day and the two boys were present when Stevie and his parents arrived for his appointment. Neither Ted nor Bobby had been sure how to approach Stevie considering how his father and Peter felt, and they had decided not to tell him anything so as not to unduly upset and worry him. Billy Bob had other ideas on the matter, and after Ted's brief examination of him to determine that he was indeed pregnant, as Stevie was dressing and Ted was about to leave the room the four-year-old toddler walked in and broke the news to the six-year-old boy, including how he had 'shooted' a seed up his bum to start the whole thing because he knew Peter was a boylover and that making a baby would make them both happy.

Like the boys before him, Stevie was not overly surprised and was delighted with the news. He did not need Ted's warning that the news was not something he should share with his father, nor Billy Bob's advice that he had to let Peter know and insist that Peter phone the Mission. Of course when Steven informed Peter what had happened and of his pregnancy and told him about his father's anger and told him he was afraid what his father would do to him and his baby, he did not have to insist Peter phone the Mission. Peter was on the phone immediately, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. Of course he didn't believe for one minute that Stevie was pregnant, but he was angry that there was someone messing around with his boymate's mind, and suspicious and worried just what sort of scam the person was up to. When he stepped into the conference room and saw Bobby sitting there, he was certain this was some sort of scam and he again became defensive. It was a long, tense meeting, but the man was concerned for Stevie's health and for his safety considering his father's attitude, and he reluctantly agreed to come back on the date they'd arranged for Stevie's mother to bring him in. Considering the role he was going to be expected to play, Ted and Bobby discretely decided it best he not be told in advance.

As it turned out, Stevie's contractions began almost a week earlier than they'd expected, during recess on the last day of February. Fortunately living in the same neighbourhood and attending the same school as Billy, Taylor and Aaron, the three boys had been keeping an eye on him. Aaron ran into the school and contacted Calvin, who drove over immediately and picked Stevie up, calling Peter, Ted and Stevie's mother on the way and having Stevie's mother confirm with the school that he was authorized to take Stevie to the Mission. In the excitement and confusion, he managed to convince the playground supervisor that he should take the three boys along to provide Stevie moral support. Fortunately Peter had been able to get to the Mission in time, and in his concern for Stevie he had been convinced by his little boymate and the frantic boys to perform his role in the prenatal procedure. It was too wild for the boys not to be sincere, and he could never deny Stevie his requests at the best of times, never mind when the boy was on the verge of tears and hysteria. By the time Stevie's mother and Ted arrived, it was all over and the two fathers and their new baby were resting comfortably, thanks to the midwife skills of Calvin and his three helpers.

Both being single men, Peter and Norm were able to look after their babies when they were not at work and their boymates were able to join them at their homes. Otherwise the two babies spent their days at the Mission along with sons of Nicholas and Kerry and of Kwame and Nat, the four parents spending every moment they could with their new sons. On top of it, calls were coming in from all parts of the country and from overseas offering young boys and babies for adoption, and from individuals seeking young boys, taking up more of Calvin's time, which, to the fourteen year old's delight, added to Shawn's responsibilities. Things were becoming very busy at the Bernstein-Fields Mission for Boys.

Chapter 20

Six-year-old Xochipilli raced across the field as fast as his little legs could carry him, leaping over the low rocks and dodging the cow flops on his way.

"Oh, it is you," said one of the ranch hands, Carlos Ortiz, as the boy came to a stop in front of the patio in a cloud of dust. "When I saw that swirl of dust coming across the field I thought perhaps it was Superman, or who is that other hero, that runs so fast?"

"Flash Gordon," replied the boy, beaming happily.

"No, no gringos. You are faster," said his mother, shaking her head. "You run like Ehecatl."

Carlos nodded as he followed them inside. Ehecatl, the manifestation of Quetzalcoatl, the master of life and creator god, as the wind god, a spirit freed from the world of matter who brought love into the world by bestirring the maiden Mayahuel. He recalled the stories told by his father, a mestizo like himself and young Xochipilli, proud of his Aztec heritage that he could trace back to the Spanish conquest when, he claimed with a smile, his great whatever grandfather had gotten his personal revenge against the invaders by conquering the beautiful Spanish wife of one of the conquistadors.

"Roberto Xochipilli de Alvara! Hands."

About to sit down at the long wooden table in the ranch mess hall, Xochipilli spun on his heel without missing a step and headed for the washroom, a happy smile on his face. He loved it here on the Rancho el Rayo, the Lightning Ranch, where his father and mother worked, his father as a ranch hand helping look after the cattle and his mother in the orchards. He had been sad when they had left America. He had liked his school and his teacher and his life, and he had made many friends there. He missed them all, and especially his friend Billy Bob who liked to play trucks with him and who had introduced to him something very special, which he missed very much also. His mother, however, missed her family and was not happy working as a maid for people who looked down their noses at her, and his father did not like living in the city and making rich Americans' yards look nice when they barely ever noticed, so they decided to return to Mexico and join his father's childhood friend, Carlos, at the Rancho el Rayo.

He liked Carlos. He always had a smile for him, and when they talked he really listened to what he had to say, not like most adults who were too busy or too tired or didn't think kids knew anything and just pretended to listen. You could always tell in their eyes if they were interested and paying attention. You could sometimes tell from their eyes when they were thinking about sex stuff too. Billy Bob had taught him that. Sometimes Carlos thought about doing sex stuff with him. He could tell. Sometimes he found his father's best friend looking at him the same way you see men looking at girls. Roberto Xochipilli de Alvara thought girls were dumb and he was sort of glad that Carlos liked boys instead. He was a good man and he was nice and he was his father's best friend all the way back to when they were children and he was a mestizo like him. His full name was Carlos Ortiz Huitzilin Teotecpatl, but the Americans who owned the ranchero never called him by his last two names, just like when they had lived in America he had never used his middle name. His mother had said that was because the gringos didn't understand Nahuatl and found it hard to pronounce but he knew his mother preferred it. He had gotten his Mexica blood from her and her family. He liked his Nahuatl name, which meant Flower Prince and was the name of the Aztec god of beauty, happiness, youth, love, music, dance and flowers, and he knew Huitzilin Teotecpatl liked his too. It would be good if Huitzilin was the father of his baby and their son could carry on the Aztec ancestry of both of them.

Billy Bob had told him all about babies, and had made it so he could have his own baby with a man he especially liked when he was ready to have one. He had also told him about other things a boy and man could do together, or two boys, and he had shown him how under the blankets at the daycare where he had gone last year after kindergarten and over the summer while his mother and father were at work. Then when he went to the daycare after school in the fall until his mother or father could pick him up, he and Billy Bob continued to do things in the boys room. He missed doing those special things. He missed doing them a lot. Of course he played with his dinky like Billy Bob had shown him, which felt very good, but it wasn't the same as doing things with another person.

The ranchero was large, 2730 acres, with three haciendas besides the bunk houses, married quarters and mess hall for the ranch hands and the working barns. There were sixty pastures for the cattle and working pens, jungle and mountain trails for hiking and horseback riding, lakes and rivers for fishing, and orange, mango, grapefruit, and lime orchards besides Ebony, Poinciana and pecan groves. Besides being a turn key cattle and horse ranch, the ranchero also had a quail breeding operation with pens and incubators, and had guides to take men out turkey, quail, dove and deer hunting in the jungles. It even had a three thousand-foot [900 m] grass airstrip that could accommodate a twin engine plane. Doña Chantez held school in a corner of the mess hall. Unlike in America they went from eight to one and they all attended the same classroom, and unlike in the towns and cities, boys and girls attended together. His mother explained that wasn't because it was the right thing, but because there were so few of them. On their eleventh birthday the girls went with their mothers to learn women's work, and the boys with their fathers to learn about farming or ranching or other men's work. Roberto Xochipilli de Alvara wanted to be a cowboy like his father and Carlos Ortiz Huitzilin Teotecpatl.

"Why such a serious look muchacho?" Carlos asked, slipping a finger under Roberto's chin and raising his head.

"Thinking."

"Ah. Be careful. That can be a dangerous thing," he joked. "Well, that was a delicious meal, as always," he observed, pushing his chair back and speaking loudly so the cooks would hear. They liked to be complemented, and they always had a big smile for Carlos, and often something extra for the late afternoon snack, a particularly large mango or orange or a freshly-baked bun with lime jelly. "But now it is time for a siesta."

"Yes, it is," Roberto said, stretching and yawning with exaggeration.

"For you? But you have done nothing this morning to tire you out," Carlos joked. Children, especially over the age of five and under the age of eleven, did not usually take a nap.

"I worked hard at school this morning," Roberto objected. "Very hard."

"Ah. Working with the mind is very hard," Carlos affirmed with a nod of his head. "You should take a siesta."

"Perhaps I will join you today."

"Of course. If that is all right with your father."

"Just you be sure you let Carlos rest and not pester him with a thousand questions," Hernando de Alvara said with a smile. "He has much work yet to do this afternoon."

As the pair headed across the yard to a grove of mango, Carlos smiled. He and his wife Maria had been blessed with four fine daughters, the youngest Xochipilli's age and the oldest sixteen, all whom he loved dearly, but no sons. If he'd had one, he'd have liked him to be like Xochipilli, good looking, always cheerful, full of energy and imagination, obedient and well mannered. But now, Maria was fat and forty. There would be no more children for them. Leaning up against one of the larger trees, he pulled his sombrero over his eyes and drifted off to sleep in the hot afternoon sun.

Xochipilli studied him out of the corner of his eye. Huitzilin was forty-three, the same age as his father, with dark eyes, jet black hair, dark skin from being outside most of the time, and a large, thick moustache with the ends curled like the horns of a longhorn bull. He had strong, muscular arms and legs and was an excellent horse rider and calf roper, almost as good as his father. He was a good man, kind to his daughters and to his wife and though he never said it, disappointed and sad because he did not have a son. He could give him that son. Huitzilin would make a good boylover. His first name meant hummingbird, an appropriate match for the god of flowers. Billy Bob had said he'd know when the right man came along to be his special boylover and to make a baby with him, and Xochipilli knew Huitzilin was the right man.

As Huitzilin's breathing grew deeper and slower, Xochipilli slowly reached over and ever so carefully pulled down his fly, and ever so slowly he slipped his hand inside the opening and the opening of the man's boxers. Wrapping his fingers about the man's warm, soft penis, he slowly and carefully guided it out through the two openings. He had a nice dick, a dark cocoa brown and uncut, just like his own. He knew many boys and men had their skins cut off, but his mother had told him that the ancient Mexica did not do such a thing until the Christians had invaded. He was sort of glad that they didn't. He liked having the extra skin and how it felt drawing it back to reveal the head of his penis. He slowly pulled Huitzilin's skin back now, revealing his knob. He was glad to see the man kept himself clean. He knew that was very important, and that not all men did. He studied the man's cocoa brown sausage as he slowly stroked it, and to his delight it slowly began to swell. Billy Bob had told him that meant the man liked it. From the speed with which it was swelling, he had to really be liking it.

Carlos slowly became aware of the pleasure between his legs and that he had an erection. Drifting between consciousness and subconsciousness, he sighed with the delight of having a stiff cock and having it stroked and he slowly realized he was not dreaming. He slowly opened his right eye a crack. There was a hand wrapped around his erection and stroking it, a small hand. He stared down at it in surprise for a moment. Slowly closing his eye, he debated what he should do. It felt good, very good, and he knew that pleasure would continue to increase until he reached that ultimate peak of pleasure if he did not put a stop to this. He was tempted to let the boy continue with his amusement until that happened. It had not been his idea after all. He could pretend to be asleep right up to the end. That would be messy though, and not as enjoyable as revealing he was awake and conscious of the pleasure he was feeling.

That would be better, but if he did reveal to the boy that he was awake, he'd have to stop him. He was just a boy, six years old, and he was the son of his best friend besides. What the boy was doing was wrong, and as an adult he'd have to put an end to it. That the boy had taken out his cock was a surprise actually, but then boys his age were curious about such things, and innocent when it came to matters of propriety. That he was stroking it came as more of a surprise, but then boys did discover that pleasure on their own and did play with themselves. That Xochipilli had been daring enough to take his penis out and to play with it was typical of the boy's spunk and one of the boy's charms that drew him to the boy.

That Huitzilin had awoken, Xochipilli was aware. That the man had made no attempt to stop him had made him glad. Billy Bob had said that would mean the man was enjoying it and didn't believe in the dumb adult rule that men and boys shouldn't do sex stuff, a sure sign he was a boylover. He did wish that he wasn't pretending to still be sleeping though. At the daycare when Billy Bob had played with him and one of the older boys at the same time, the older boy sometimes had pretended to be asleep. Billy Bob said that was because though they didn't believe in the rule guys shouldn't do such stuff, they didn't want to admit it or let other guys know that was how they felt. It was a lot more fun when they didn't pretend.

Huitzilin's cock was hard and he could feel it throbbing, making his own cock throb and get hard also. He reached down with his other hand and unzipped his trousers and slipped his fingers in his fly and the opening of his underwear. Wrapping his fingers about his stiff little dinky he drew it out of the two openings and began to stroke it while he stroked Huitzilin's. Huitzilin's felt so large compared to his own. He stroked both of their dicks for a few minutes and Huitzilin still didn't stop him, but he didn't stop pretending to be sleeping either.

Leaning over, Xochipilli slipped his mouth over the man's knob and sucked on it gently. Slowly he eased his lips down over the bulb, taking his time and breathing slowly to get used to it like Billy Bob had told him he'd have to, and then down the shaft as far as he could. Huitzilin's cock was a lot fatter and longer than Billy Bob's had been. Unlike when he sucked Billy Bob's, he could only go half way down the man's shaft. He hoped that would bring Huitzilin enough pleasure. He also hoped that would make the man stop pretending to be sleeping. Billy Bob had said sometimes adults took longer because they had to follow the rules for a much longer time, and a boy had to try harder to help them realize they didn't have to pretend. Huitzilin must have been following that rule for forty-three years so Xochipilli knew he'd have to work specially hard.

Carlos could not believe it! The boy not only knew about sucking cock, he knew how to do it, and he was doing it to him! He and Maria had a good sex life, but never had she ever done something like that to him in all their years of marriage. Nor had any of the girls he'd dated before his marriage, and though he knew there were women for hire who would, being a handsome and personable man he'd never needed to go to a woman for hire to satisfy the needs a man has. As horny teenagers, he and his closest friend, Hernando, Roberto's father, had jacked off together and had wondered about getting blown, but they'd never tried it on each other. Of course by then the taboos of society and what others thought of guys who did such things had been drilled into them. They were not so young and ignorant of such things as was Xochipilli. The boy wasn't totally ignorant mind you. From the way he sucking on his cock he had to have done this before, or had it done to him, or likely both. But who? Who would do such a thing to a child not yet seven years of age?

Xochipilli resumed sucking as he slowly bobbed his head up and down the ranch hand's long, thick cock, and his right hand, now free, reached down and began to stroke his little cocklet. It throbbed and itched pleasantly and felt good as his fingers squeezed it and stroked it, and he could feel Huitzilin's cock throbbing between his lips and he knew he was bringing him pleasure too. He had enjoyed having Billy Bob sucking him and he had enjoyed sucking Billy Bob and playing with himself very much, and he was enjoying doing it with Huitzilin very much also. It would just be that much better if the man stopped pretending to be sleeping, but he knew why even if he didn't really understand. It was just going to take time for him to change, but he would help the man see what was true and right. Billy Bob had said that was their job.

Carlos was in turmoil. Having his cock eagerly and vigorously sucked by a six-year-old boy sitting there jerking his stiff little cocklet was the most erotic and unusual thing he'd ever engaged in, and never in his life had he felt so aroused. He had been taught that boys did not play with themselves though, and those of the same gender did not engage in sex with each other. Of course there were many things that men were not expected to do, especially men who were raised in the Roman Catholic faith, and he knew that there were men who preferred men over women, so breaking those rules did not bother him that much. Men, however, did not do such things with children. Every faith said that, and even those of no faith said it. He was not sure how his Aztec forefathers had felt about it, but he suspected they had frowned on it also. As pleasant as it was, and as much as he wanted it to continue, he had to put a stop to it.

He stirred, hoping the boy would stop, but he didn't even pause. He sighed deeply and tried to draw away, as if in his sleep, but the boy just slid along with him. He yawned exaggeratedly and stretched his arms, pretending to be about to wake up, but the boy still didn't stop. He finally opened his eyes, and Xochipilli looked up at him, his lips still fastened about his swollen, throbbing cock, his fingers still stroking his own stiff little cocklet.

"Xochipilli, you should not be doing that."

He finally removed his lips from his stiff, aching cock. "You do not like it?" he asked, his fingers still but continuing to grasp his own stiff little cocklet.

"It is not a matter of not liking it. Boys do not do such things to grown men."

"It does not bring you pleasure?" he asked with a mixture of surprise and disappointment.

"It does. But is it not right."

"I am not doing it right?"

"No, no. You are doing it very right," Carlos quickly replied. "You have done this before?"

"Not with a man."

"With boys?"

"Just one."

"Who?"

"A boy I met in America. Billy Bob."

"How old was this boy?"

"Three. He was four in July."

Carlos stared at him in surprise. He had expected the boy to be a teenager.

"He said it was a special way a guy can bring pleasure to a guy he loves."

It was true that it did bring pleasure, but Carlos had been raised with the belief it was immoral and illegal, and especially between a man and a boy.

"I love you," Roberto continued.

"And I love you too," began Carlos, knowing where the boy was headed.

"Good," Xochipilli said, leaning over and opening his mouth.

"But there are rules," Carlos objected, reaching for the boy to stop him. He was too late. The boy had his lips about his swollen cock once again. He lifted the boy off.

"You want to play with mine while I suck yours? Billy Bob and I done that. It feels real good."

Xochipilli took Huitzilin's hand and placing it on his stiff dink, he turned and went back down on the man. When Huitzilin did nothing, he rotated his hips, rubbing his stiff little cocklet against the man's hand. When he still did nothing, he reached down and wrapping his fingers about the man's, he closed them about his little dink and pulled it up and then pushed it down. Adults were so silly sometimes. He didn't think there was a boy in daycare who didn't know how to do that, and not all of them had been shown by Billy Bob. Releasing the man's hand, he reached over and slipped his fingers around the base of Huitzilin's stiff cock. It was so huge his thumb and fingertips could not touch. Holding the man's cock, he slowly drew his lips up the shaft and over the bulb, and then slowly eased his lips back down, recalling how he'd felt when Billy Bob had done that to him. He hoped Huitzilin was feeling the same. As he gently sucked on the man's thick cock his mouth filled with spittle. He let the man's cock soak in it until his mouth was full, and then he swallowed the cock-flavoured spit. He loved the taste and smell of cock. Billy Bob had said most girls and women didn't like it, but then girls were dumb, and that was why they had boys to do it to men, men they loved and who loved them. As his mouth filled with spittle again, he tightened his lips about Huitzilin's cock and let his saliva collect as he worked his lips up and down the shaft and over the bulb. Huitzilin was breathing heavier and he knew that meant the man was enjoying it and that made him glad.

Carlos slowly worked his fingers up and down Roberto's hot, stiff little cocklet, the boy's hot, moist mouth engulfing his knob and the top half of his shaft. He could feel the gentle tug of suction as the boy sucked in as he began to slowly slide his lips up and down his throbbing, blood-engorged cock. He would be a liar if he said it did not feel good. To be truthful, it felt very good, as good as sex with his wife had ever been, perhaps even better. His wife had never been so aggressive in their lovemaking, and, in fact, had avoided any contact with his cock other than what had been required. That was not the case with Roberto. The boy sucked on his cock as if he was famished and it was evident from the pleasure in his eyes and the way that he attacked his cock that he delighted in its taste and smell. His own hot, aroused little cocklet throbbing in his hand was further proof of the pleasure the boy was feeling. Carlos thought back to when he was a boy and he and his closest friend, Roberto's father, had jacked off together, the two of them enjoying the forbidden pleasure made all the more pleasurable being an adult pleasure and taboo. He had wanted to try doing Hernando's, and he could sense that Hernando wanted to try his, but the two were teenagers by then and too worried what the other would think if he suggested it, too worried he'd be rejected and considered a pervert, and so the desire was left unfulfilled.

Hernando's son had no such restrictions. He was fortunate. He'd never grow up wondering what it might have been like to suck a man's cock, or have a man play with his. Carlos stroked the boy's little cocklet, pulling the boy's foreskin back over his reddened knob and then pushing it back up, and as the boy squirmed and sucked harder on his cock he knew the boy was enjoying the pleasure throbbing between his legs. It brought him pleasure playing with the boy's little pricklet and bringing him pleasure, and it was pleasurable having the boy eagerly sucking on his cock without the slightest inhibition or hesitation. That was how sex should be, enjoyed openly and freely for the sake of the pleasure it brought and engaged in as much for one's own pleasure as for brining one's partner pleasure. That was an advantage two people of the same sex had when they engaged in sex. A man knew how another man was feeling just as only a woman could know how another woman was feeling. The same was true between a man and a boy, though for a man there was an added pleasure, one that Carlos was rapidly approaching. He was about to shoot a load of his gism down the throat of his best friend's six-year-old son! That was erotic, and perverted.

Xochipilli inhaled and exhaled deeply, delighting in the delightful, raw fragrance of Huitzilin's cock, and he quivered with delight as he swallowed his cock-flavoured saliva. Of even greater pleasure was feeling the man's hot, stiff cock throbbing between his lips and knowing how much he was enjoying having his cock sucked. Adults who thought it was wrong or dirty to suck cock evidently had never done it, or hadn't had the introduction Billy Bob had provided. If they had, they would never feel that way. As for their dumb idea that boys shouldn't do it to men, or men shouldn't do it to boys, well, adults had a lot of dumb ideas. He was glad he was a kid, and that Billy Bob had taught him this special secret, and he was especially glad that Huitzilin had not stopped him. He could not wait to taste his milk. Billy Bob had said that men and teenagers could make a special milk in their balls, and that it tasted good, and whatever Billy Bob said was right.

His own little balls were too young of course, but his little pricklet was throbbing and the knob burning just like Huitzilin's and the feeling was growing stronger and stronger with each stroke by Huitzilin's fingers. Huitzilin was really breathing heavily now and squirming also, and then suddenly the underside of his stiff cock throbbed violently right where the shaft joined the knob, and the man excitedly cried out something about coming and began to spurt his milk into his mouth. It was thick and hot and delicious and Xochipilli eagerly swallowed the tart, slimy gism down. Spurt after spurt shot into his mouth faster than he could swallow, filling his mouth. Instead of thrusting his beak down the throat of the flower and sucking up its nectar, the hummingbird thrust his cock down the throat of the god of youth and flowers and love and filled the famished six-year-old with his own milky nectar. Dizzy with the ecstasy of his lover's orgasm and drunk on his exotic slime, Xochipilli suddenly felt a sharp stab up his groin and he jerked and spasmed with his own delightful orgasm, his little stiff cocklet benumbed and throbbing in his lover's fingers. Billy Bob had been right. It was fucking awesome.

***

Salvatore Tortellini inhaled deeply as he dropped his trousers, his eyes fixed on the exposed buttocks of Benito Prechello, the six-year-old son of his boss, Vincenzo Prechello, the owner of the Prechello Winery estate and, according to those who knew, a don in the Sicilian Mafia organization where he was known as Vinnie the Enforcer. He had to have a death wish to be doing what he was about to do. Opening the bottle of olive oil, he poured a little over the head of his erect cock. As he spread it over the knob and shaft, he thought back five months to the beginning of last November when Vincenzo had returned from America and taken over the operations of the winery from his aging father. There were those who said there was bad blood between him and his three younger brothers as a result, but Salvatore had seen no evidence of it. As the eldest son it was his right, and besides, the estate brought in enough money for all four to lead the leisurely life of the rich, and the winery was only one of several known and legitimate businesses the Prechello family was involved in.

Such things were of no concern to Salvatore Tortellini who tended the vineyards for the Prechello family as had his father and his father before that. It was good, honest work, close to the earth and to God, and he brought home a decent salary. His wife Costanza didn't think so, but then she was never happy with her station in life. She was constantly nagging him, telling him he should challenge the Prechello family and demand greater appreciation for the long hours he put in. To tell the truth, he put in the long hours he did because he preferred working in the vineyard to spending time with his domineering, nagging wife. Oh, he loved her, but she had become sour and greedy, just like her mother.

It had not been the return of Vincenzo Prechello that had any impact on Salvatore's life. It was the return of Vincenzo's six-year-old son, Benito. The boy was darkly handsome, like his father and uncles and his cousins, but unlike the rest of his family he did not have an aloofness and detachment about him that even the youngest Prechello children had. Unlike any of the other members of his family, he had an innocence about him that warmed even the coldest heart, and a genuine interest in the operations of the estate and the lives of the common folk who toiled for his father and his uncles. It was that innocence and sense of caring that charmed women and men alike and even other children, but there was also a sexuality about the six-year-old child that aroused Salvatore's most basic and animalistic desires. He could not explain it, but when the child looked at him with those large, dark eyes it was as if he were telegraphing erotic messages directly to his brain, inviting him to take liberties with him and telling him that he was available. His childish innocence and purity combined with his natural erotic appeal to man's baser instincts was a dangerous combination.

The first time he'd seen the boy upon his return to Sicily, Salvatore had felt a physical attraction for the boy unlike anything he'd ever felt before, stronger than even his initial attraction and love for his wife. Just the sight of the boy gave him an instant erection, and a smile or a word from the boy had him aching with a lust he'd never felt for his wife, or any other woman. That was most unusual for Salvatore was not a boylover and had never in his life thought of boys as sexual beings, and especially a child so young. Still, there was no denying the effect the boy was having on him, and though the boy gave no indication that he was aware of the effect he was having nor of Salvatore's interest in him, over time Salvatore had become obsessed with the boy, purposefully seeking him out, learning his routines so that his path and the boy's would cross with increasing frequency. He was stalking the boy.

Never did the boy give any indication he had any more interest in Salvatore than he did in any of the other workers on the estate, and he certainly gave no indication he had the slightest interest in or even knowledge of matters of sex. And so it was that Salvatore took the initiative. Whenever their paths crossed and he saw the boy looking in his direction, he stroked his thigh or the bulge in his trousers, hoping to elicit a response in the boy but the boy paid him no more attention than he would pay a man scratching an itch. Salvatore's itch, however, was becoming unbearable and would only be satisfied when the boy scratched it. Finally he did the unthinkable. Knowing the boy liked to seek out the cats that frequented the shed behind the winery where they stored the baskets for collecting the grapes because the shed was warm and also frequented by the field mice during the wet season, he hid away among the baskets and crates and upon seeing the boy approaching, he pulled down his fly and took out his member and began to stroke it.

Upon 'discovering' him, the boy had backed away and apologised for interrupting him. Salvatore had immediately assured him there was no need for him to apologise, and observed that it was he who should have found a place more private. When the boy made no inquiry as to what it was that he'd been doing, and made no attempt to leave either, Salvatore observed he imagined the boy was wondering what he was doing. To his surprise, the boy not only said that he knew, but also that he and a boy in America who had told him of the act had often done it together and to each other. He also volunteered that it had been something he had enjoyed and missed. Salvatore had found himself offering to do each other and the boy had readily agreed. That night he had prayed to God for forgiveness and berated himself for his deed, but the next day all he could think about was what they had done, and that evening after supper found the two of them together in the storage shed again.

That had been the beginning. A month later found the two of them engaging in their first hot sixty-nine session, an act the boy had also known about and had done in America. Again he'd pleaded with God for forgiveness and had berated himself, but despite his feelings of guilt and sinfulness, the next day he was eager to do it again, and so was the boy. And now, another month had passed, and he was about to bugger the boy, which the boy also claimed to have experienced with this mystery boy from America, and from his skill and comfort with mutual masturbation and with oral sex, Salvatore had no reason to doubt his word.

So it was that he was in the back of the winery lubricating the boy's rectum, pouring the olive oil he'd taken from his wife's kitchen down the boy's smooth ass crack and working the oil into his opening with his fingers. He had never felt so aroused nor so eager to engage in sex in all his life, nor so nervous, not even when he'd been a horny, virgin teenager trying to make out with the girls in the village, not even on his wedding night with his wife. Inhaling deeply, he placed the tip of his cock against the boy's oiled hole, and grasping the boy's hips, he slowly eased forward. His greased cock slipped surprisingly easily into the boy's hole.

Standing there behind the tanks and oak casks filled with aging wine, the boy standing on an empty wooden crate in front of him, he began to pump his hips to and fro, working his stiff, aching cock in and out of the boy's delightfully tight, compact ass. Never had his wife's cunt, or the cunt of any woman, felt so tight. Never had any woman ever worked along so closely with him. As he drew his cock out the boy constricted his anus, tightening it about the shaft of his cock, and as he sank his cock back up the boy's hot, moist rectum, the boy relaxed his sphincter. It was as if the boy had been trained in the art of love, in the art of pleasing a man sexually. Of course he was a boy and so had a cock and knew what it was like to have an erection and what it was like to have a knob that burned and itched with desire even if he was only six. The boy had insisted no man had ever known him and so his response had to reflect the natural, raw sexuality that exists in every boy. It was Salvatore's good fortune to be the one to bring this boy's to the fore.

Grasping the boy's slender hips more tightly, he slowly worked his cock in and out of the boy's hot, moist rectum, working slowly so as to enjoy the delight of having his stiff, aching cock surrounded by hot, moist boy flesh. He bent over and inhaled deeply, delighting in the fresh fragrance of the youth. He kissed the boy's smooth cheek, recalling the freshness of his breath and the silkiness of his ruby lips as they'd kissed earlier that afternoon. The boy was so young and innocent, so pure and clean, and yet he was imbued with a raw, animalistic sexuality, the embodiment of pure lust. As he slowly pumped his swollen cock in and out of the boy's asshole, he reached around and grasped the boy's tiny but erect little cocklet. The little bugger was stiff and horny, his little dick no longer and thicker than a man's little finger, as hard as a nail, and itching with as much desire as Salvatore's eight-inch cock. He drew back the boy's foreskin, causing the boy to inhale and tense with the pleasure of having his skin pealed back, and then he pushed it back up over the boy's little knob, repeating the pleasure and causing the boy to squirm with delight. To be so pure and young and innocent!

Despite himself, he began to pump his hips faster, each plunge sending a shard of sweet pain through his knob and up his swollen shaft, and each withdrawal sending an identical shard through his swollen, throbbing flesh. His dangling, hairy balls began to tighten under his pistoning cock and the pressure began to develop in his loins. He kissed the nape of the boy, delighting in his long, soft, curly hair, and while one hand stroked the boy's swollen cock the other caressed the boy's tender little nipples, causing the little, tender buds to grow hard and to itch with the same pure lust as the knob of his little stiff cocklet. The boy squirmed and inhaled with the pleasures assaulting him, the painful pleasure of having his aroused, abused nipples tweaked, the sweet pain of having his foreskin pulled back off his swollen knob and then pushed back over the sensitive, burning edge, the erotic burning of his anus stretched apart by a man's thick, throbbing cock, and the vague, numb sensation of having the depths of his rectum probed.

As Salvatore approached his climax, he knew the boy was approaching his, and with a mad lust he began to thrust his cock in and out of the boy and to pump his fingers up and down the boy's abused little cocklet as the pressure built up in both of their loins, the man and the six-year-old boy feeling the same lust, the same need, building and building deep in their loins and their swollen dickheads aching with the same maddening itch. And then he came, and the boy spasmed with his own powerful orgasm. He filled the boy's rectum with his hot, thick slime and he rammed his rigid, aching cock in and out of the slime-filled, pulsating, clutching hole as the boy jerked and twisted and his little stiff cocklet throbbed hotly with his orgasm, his little, hairless, marble-sized balls drawn up tight beneath his little cocklet, the boy gasping and flailing uncontrollably as his delightful dry orgasm ripped through his loins and the man filled him with his slime. As he came, Salvatore was reminded of the boy's caution that if they did this he'd become pregnant, and he smiled at the boy's innocence and wished that it were possible to have a love child with this delightful, perfect boy.

After that first time, he could not get enough, and nor could Benito. They met daily, sometimes twice a day, and each time they fucked it was even better than the previous time. Salvatore completely forgot about his husbandly duties to his wife, and that was quite all right with Costanza for sex had become for her no more than a wife's duty to her husband. It was fine for Salvatore also, for although his wife had lain on her back and spread her legs for him every Saturday night for this past year, her mind might as well not have been there, and, he suspected, often it wasn't. With Benito, on the other hand, the boy was as much a participant in the act as he was, and took just as much delight in it.

After two weeks the boy did begin showing signs of tiredness, which from the way they had been going at it, was no surprise to either of them, but it didn't slow down their sexual trysts. By the beginning of the next month he was having headaches and nausea, especially in the mornings, and his breasts were clearly swollen and he said that they felt heavy. That still didn't stop them from their secret rendezvous. Salvatore did notice the boy's areola had become darker and that he'd begun to get pimples and had a stuffy nose, which combined with his other changes were frighteningly similar to the changes Costanza had undergone when she'd gotten pregnant with their son and three girls. The possibility that the boy had actually gotten pregnant was absurd, but the possibility made the boy all the more attractive in Salvatore's mind.

Gradually over the next two weeks his nausea and nasal congestion cleared up and the boy said he was feeling much better and Salvatore had to smile at his outrageous imagination that the boy had actually gotten pregnant. He'd clearly had nothing more than a spring cold. The sap had risen in the vines and the buds were beginning to break and it was getting warmer each day. There was more and more work to be done in the fields to nurture the vines awakening from their winter sleep, and in the evenings Benito was there eager to please his boylover and eager to be pleased by him. His stomach had begun to pooch out and his waistline had disappeared but it did nothing to lessen his sex appeal in Salvatore's eyes. As for Benito, he was delighted and excited about his pregnancy.

***

Rupert and Aleksandr were delighted and excited about Aleksandr's pregnancy also. Rupert had gotten the job and discovered that life as a farmhand on a wheat farm was much to his liking. There was something about working the land and with animals that brought a person closer to nature and to God, a sentiment shared by the deeply religious and no-frills Mennonite family who had hired him. In addition to growing wheat, the Petrov farm had a large commercial garden and the family raised chickens and pigs and had a couple cows and a half dozen horses for their personal use. It had been looking after the animals and the pens that had occupied his evenings and his weekends during the winter, chores which he quite liked. Rupert had also discovered that life as a boylover was much to his liking also. While his friends were either breaking up or making up and trying to make out he had a constant and loyal companion and all the sex he could handle. He did not have to worry if his acne broke out or if he had a date for the next dance or if the love of his life had the hots for someone else.

He and Aleksandr always managed to find time and a place for a quicky during the week, and for more extended lovemaking on the weekends, and on those days when there was not much work to be done Rupert doubled as tutor for all the Petrov children, but especially for Aleksandr. Rebecca, the second oldest of the children and a year younger than Rupert was quite taken by the handsome sixteen year old, as were her parents who found the quiet, polite boy a welcome change from most teenage boys who came calling on their two teenage daughters, and they teased the two of them about how much teaching was being done and that Rupert had been hired to muck out the barns, not to provide her with her own personal tutor. If they only knew which of their children their teenage hired hand really had the hots for!

As the days progressed into weeks and the weeks into months, Aleksandr had undergone all the changes that Xochipilli and Benito had undergone. The nasal congestion and headaches and the tiredness and weight gain had all easily been explained as being the result of the winter season. They'd all come down with colds and flues and everyone gained weight in the idle months of winter cooped up inside the house. Of course as Aleksandr's stomach continued to bulge out it became evident that it was the result of more than too much Christmas cake and New Year's turkey. As impossible as it was, Rupert knew what was happening of course so when Aleksandr's mother began talking about taking him in to see a doctor he had a problem. If Aleksandr really was pregnant, there was going to be some explaining to do, and if he wasn't, which was most likely, there was still the danger of the doctor discovering what Aleksandr and he had been up to.

So he did what any resourceful and halfway intelligent teenager would do, he went on line to find a logical explanation why Aleksandr was starting to look like he'd swallowed one of the pumpkins the Petrovs grew in their garden. Obviously it wasn't a matter of malnutrition. The Petrov family ate well and ate healthily. To his dismay, try as he could, he could find nothing that was a logical explanation for the six-year-old's rapidly expanding stomach. Just as it seemed catastrophe was about to strike, the Petrov farm had a surprise visitor, a health inspector from the provincial government who was doing a check on all farms that had cattle, something about a follow up to a case of mad cow disease or something. Exactly what his business was, was not clear. The man spoke in legalese and government double talk and besides he was difficult to understand, being aged and soft-spoken and having a very strong Chinese accent.

Seeing Aleksandr, he commented on his condition, and extracted a packet from his satchel. Aleksandr's parents could not make out exactly what he said the boy had, but he evidently was well informed about it, and he made it very clear they were to add a teaspoon of the powder to a cup of boiling water and to give him the 'tea' once a day for the next two months. Rupert of course had recognized the man immediately, and full of questions, he had accompanied him back to his car. Before the anxious teenager could say anything, the man handed him a business card from the Bernstein-Fields Ministry for Boys with their email address and told him they would be able to tell him what to do 'when the time came' and climbed into his car and drove off.

Rupert of course encouraged the family to do as the man had said and although it had all been very strange, and taking the treatment for two months seemed an exceptionally long time, they saw no harm in at least giving the tea a chance. The man after all had said he was from the Department of Health – at least they think he had. Whatever the herbs were, they did help alleviate Aleksandr's sore back and legs. They did seem to make him urinate much more frequently, but that could be his body cleaning out his system and Aleksandr said the brew did make him feel much better so they postponed seeing a doctor and continued with the tea remedy. Aleksandr's stomach did keep swelling but Rupert pointed out that their visitor had said that it would and that it was nothing to be concerned about. Neither parent could recall that, but then they'd had difficulty understanding the man at all so they took the boy's word for it.

So for the next six weeks Aleksandr's stomach continued to swell but then his weight gain seemed to taper off for the next two weeks, giving his parents hope. Easter Sunday the family headed off for church, leaving Aleksandr at home under Rupert's care as they'd been doing for the past month. There was no way the boy could sit comfortably in the pews in his condition, and besides, there was no way he could sit through a sermon without having to go pee. As soon as the family headed down the road, Aleksandr and Rupert headed for the loft in the hay barn. It had been increasingly difficult for the pregnant six-year-old to climb up the ladder but it was the one place they were sure of privacy, and besides, over the past four and a half months it had become their favourite place to snuggle together, and of course to have sex. As the boy's stomach had swollen he'd become all the more attractive, and, it seemed, all the more sensitive to Rupert's caresses. When the two climaxed, it was amazing that they didn't come crashing down through the floor of the hayloft.

Whether it was simply his time, or if nature somehow knew that Sunday would be the last time the two would be completely alone for another week, or if it was the strain from climbing up the ladder to the loft, there was no way to know, but that morning Aleksandr gave birth. They had stripped and snuggled together in the nest they'd made in the hay and talked while they'd played with each other, giving each other an erection, when the contractions began. Elevating Aleksandr's hips, Rupert knelt between his outspread legs and lubed up his stiff cock and Aleksandr's love hole excitedly, both of them tense and nervous with anticipation. They had previously discussed the advice Rupert had received from the Ministry and knew what to do as incredulous as it had sounded. It had been three weeks since they'd last had intercourse, the previous weekend their baby having been particularly restless so they'd decided not to take a chance disturbing him, and the Sunday before that Aleksandr's youngest sister had come down with a cold and had stayed home from church. Monday to Saturday they never had enough private time what with Aleksandr's family constantly hovering over him.

So it was that the two united that Easter Sunday morning not just because of their love for each other nor just out of necessity, but with added horniness beyond their usual sexual lust as a result of their abstinence. As he sank his aching cock up Aleksandr's chute, Rupert trembled with the delight of having his cock surrounded at last by the boy's hot, moist ass flesh, and mindful that today his baby-their baby-would be emerging out of that very same hole and the two of them would be parents, added to his enjoyment. Aleksandr was thinking the same thing as he felt his lover's hard, throbbing cock penetrating his bowels. He loved having sex with Rupert. The six-year-old loved the physical pleasure of having his asshole stretched and his rectum stuffed with the teenager's cock, he loved the way his little cocklet itched and the knob burned when Rupert stroked it, and most of all he loved the smile of pleasure on Rupert's face as he worked his cock in and out of him. This was the most special thing two guys could do together and he was thankful that God had brought the two of them together. He knew that it was special and that few boys had what he had, making it even more special. He also knew it had to be a secret. Out of their jealousy and out of their ignorance, others condemned love between two guys as sinful and considered the sexual love between a boy and an older person as not only sinful but illegal. Even at the age of six he knew that was how others felt. He also knew that was wrong and that fortunately not everyone had been deceived and bullied into accepting that false belief. There were many like him and Rupert, and their numbers were growing. That was what Rupert had told him, and if Rupert had said so, it had to be right. Their baby would prove to everyone how wrong they were.

Those were lofty and unusual thoughts for a six-year-old boy, but then Aleksandr was not your usual boy and had not been leading the typical life of a six-year-old. As Rupert's cock began pumping in and out of his asshole faster and he felt the pressure developing deep in his loins and his asshole and little cocklet burned and throbbed with increasing pleasure, he forgot about those lofty thoughts. The physical pleasure of having his ass fucked and his little cocklet stroked and the mental pleasure of knowing he was bringing the teenage boy fucking him just as much pleasure combined to bring him to a level of ecstasy denied most boys.

Rupert was experiencing the same ecstasy. Caught up in the physical pleasure of the act and the overwhelming pleasure of knowing the pleasure he was bringing the six-year-old boy beneath him, the sixteen-year-old forgot momentarily why they were fucking and what was about to happen. He concentrated on the exotic pulsation between his legs and the pressure developing in his loins and on making this the best fuck his young partner had ever had.

As he pumped his cock in and out of the pregnant young boy beneath him, he inhaled and exhaled deeply, as did the boy, the two of them sucking in the sweet fragrance of the winter hay mingled with the natural, erotic fragrance of two hot, sweating boys in rut. As the pressure in their loins approached its peak, the boy above began to furiously ram his cock in and out of the boy below and the boy below began to pump his hips, riding his lover's rigid pole jammed up his ass and pumping his aching little cocklet in and out of his lover's fingers. They reached their orgasms together, the teenage boy shooting his thick, slimy cum up the boy's rectum, spurt after spurt erupting out of his body, his large, hairy balls drawn up tight beneath his throbbing cock, and the pregnant six year old jerking convulsively with his dry orgasm as shocks of pleasure ripped through his swollen little penis and as his ravaged asshole burned.

The boy's enlarged and modified appendix contracted more sharply than it ever had before, expelling its contents into his ascending colon, which began a series of snake like contractions, working the released fetus up and across his abdomen and down the descending colon, easing it along through his ass slime and mush shit. It entered his rectum and filled it, stretching it beyond what one would think humanly possible, and as his lover withdrew his still stiff, throbbing cock the space was immediately filled with more hot, throbbing flesh, their soon to be born baby, sliding through the fresh film of thick teenage slime as the contractions of the six-year-old boy's rectum merged with the contractions from his orgasm.

Aleksandr grunted and snorted and squealed like a stuck pig as he pushed out with his abdomen, forcing the fully-developed fetus filling his rectum out his hole, and his lover urged him on as he knelt there between his legs, his hands outspread to catch their baby. Wanking on his little, numb cocklet as he convulsed with his orgasm and with his birth contractions, Aleksandr could feel his rectum stretching wider and wider as first the infant's head and then his shoulders pushed out of his ass hole. Inhaling sharply, he clenched his eyes and pushed again and felt it sliding out and into his lovers hands, coated with his lover's cum and with his ass slime and boy shit. Born there in the Petrov hayloft, the two boys greeted the newborn with as much joy and awe at the miracle of its birth as the wise men greeted the infant Jesus in the manger.

By the time the Petrov family returned from their Easter Sunday services, the little newborn had been cleaned up and wrapped in blue and white swaddling clothes and was peacefully sleeping in his basket, which, Rupert and Aleksandr would explain, had been left at their doorstep. The Petrov family of course would look after the little child while its mother was searched for, and with the help of the Bernstein-Fields Ministry for Boys would foster the little baby when his mother could not be found, never aware that they had taken into their fold their very own and very first grandson.

***

Enrique and Raimundo had turned thirteen the beginning of April, and both were puffed up like two beach balls with little heads and a pair of skinny arms and a pair of skinny legs that could barely support their weight. Their parents of course had become increasingly worried about their condition and had made an appointment with their doctor to see them two months ago. Pretending embarrassment being taken to the doctor by their parents like two little kids, the two boys had insisted on going themselves, having of course cancelled the appointments themselves. They returned with the concocted story of having an intestinal infection which was resulting in gas, which accounted for their bloated stomachs, and that all they could do was take lots of liquids and get plenty of rest, both of which the boys needed. They also considered saying the doctor recommended a steady diet of guava pie with coconut cream sauce, their favourite, but figured that might be a bit suspicious. A month later, again in response to their parents' concerns, the boys pretended to see the doctor again and came home with a bottle of medicine, a bottle of chocolate syrup with the label replaced by one they'd made and printed off with their computer.

A couple weeks after the boys' thirteenth birthday, while waiting for a few straggling tourists to return to the bus, the driver asked their father about his sons' health, and he made the observation that the two looked like his wife had when she'd been carrying them, and that they even had the same symptoms as she had in her last term of pregnancy, including a voracious appetite. The son of one of the tourists overheard the conversation and on his insistence, his father inquired if they'd been taken to see a doctor, and offered to examine boys in that he was a specialist in abdominal disorders. Worried in that their stomachs had continued to swell despite the medication to the point the boys were having difficulty getting to their feet after sitting and had evident back pains and swollen ankles, their father gratefully accepted the offer. So it was that to the consternation of his two boys, he arrived home with the doctor and the doctor's two sons, commenting on the remarkable coincidence that a doctor specializing in abdominal disorders had been on his tour and had overheard the conversation between himself and the bus driver.

It was even more of a coincidence than any of them realized. The touring 'doctor' was actually Thaddeus from Poland with his boymate Klaus Wojtyla and their nineteen-month-old son. A colleague and good friend of his had recently had a run of bad luck. First his equipment had broken down and several of his crew had come down with the flue virus. Thaddeus had lent him one of his cranes, and he and his crew had put in extra shifts to unload a shipment of perishables for him, saving him from losing a major client and taking a large financial loss. Then a month later his wife took ill just before they were to take their annual Easter vacation to Cuba, too late for them to get a refund on the tickets for themselves and their infant daughter. In gratitude for his earlier favour, his colleague offered his tickets to him which he was able to exchange for one adult and two children. Klaus had managed to learn enough Spanish from the guide books, having a knack for languages like most children do, to catch the gist of the conversation between the bus driver and their guide. Thaddeus had a working knowledge of Russian and English from his job, as did the boys' father in that the Soviet Union and Canada were two major sources of tourists for Cuba, so they had been able to communicate without too much difficulty.

As soon as he saw the two boys, it was obvious what their problem was. The two boys had gone from ninety-two pounds [42 kg] to a hundred and thirty-four [61 kg], almost all of the extra weight being carried below their navels. Suggesting he examine the two boys privately, he went with the boys to their bedroom. Closing the door, he came right to the point.

"So, how long it is since you've been feeling babies move?" he asked as he felt their stomachs.

The two boys glanced at each other and chuckled nervously. "That is very funny. That is one pregnancy joke we have not yet heard," Enrique observed.

"I am not joking," Thaddeus replied.

"Yeah. Well, if you look a bit lower, you'll see we happen to be boys," observed Enrique.

"I realize that," Thaddeus said with a smile. "I know about Gargoyle of Male Fecundity and oriental and suppositories."

"I have no idea what you are talking about. I don't know anything about a… gargoyle," Enrique responded. "I don't even know what a gargoyle is."

"A statue, that looks like pregnant frog with six legs, and very large, erect penis."

The boys glanced at each other. "We might have seen such a statue."

"And four suppositories."

"Eight."

"When?"

Enrique looked at his brother and Raimundo nodded. "About four and a half months ago."

"Then you are due any day now."

"Any day?"

"It takes half as long for male. Four and a half months, not nine."

"Good. I can't take much more of this," groaned Raimundo. Enrique glanced at him reproachfully. "Com'on. He knows what we did. He's a doctor."

"Actually, no. I am stevedore. Or was. I own the company now." The boys looked at him. "But I know about pregnant boys. The baby out there," he said, nodding to the living room, "is mine. And young boy is one who was pregnant with him."

The two boys glanced at each other again. "You have to be telling the truth," observed Enrique. "Nobody could possibly make something like that up."

"Or admit to it," added his twin.

"So you said we're due any day now?"

"Oh yes, and I think when you find out what you are going to have to do, you will be even more shocked than you thought I would be to discover you have babies," Thaddeus said with a smile.

Thaddeus was right on both accounts. Although not as shocked as they had been when they'd realized they were pregnant, the boys were still astounded when he told them what they were going to have to do to facilitate the birth of their babies, and two days later that day came. Fortunately, their parents were both at work, and fortunately Thaddeus had decided to stay in Varadero for a couple days incase his assistance was needed. Given the size of their bellies, the mechanics of what Thaddeus had told them had to be done proved to be impossible. Face to face was obviously out, and despite the two boys being well hung for their age, no matter what position they tried, a ninety-nine position wasn't going to work either.

"Perhaps if you jerk and finger fuck each other that will be enough," suggested Klaus.

The three of them looked at the eight-year-old and agreed that perhaps it would. Having already spread a sheet over Raimundo's bed, the two pregnant boys carefully laid down but again no matter what position they tried, they could not reach around the other's bulky body to finger each other's asshole simultaneously.

"Perhaps if one of you went first, and then the other," suggested Thaddeus.

"You better do me first, hermano," said Raimundo. "My contractions are coming almost one after the other."

"So are mine!"

"Perhaps if you jerk each other, Thaddeus and I can finger fuck the two of you," suggested Klaus.

That sounded good to all of them so the two boys rolled over on their backs and shuffled forward so their hips were on the edge of the bed and their feet on the floor. As the two pregnant teens reached over and began to stroke each other's limp cock, Thaddeus and Klaus knelt on the floor beside the two boys and using their spittle, slipped their middle fingers up their assholes while their nineteen-month-old, whom they'd named Karol, happily sat between his two daddies and reached up and fiddled with the two sets of large, dangling balls ripe with early teenage cum.

Jacking off had been the first sexual pleasure the two boys had engaged in and the first they'd engaged in with each other, five years ago when they'd been Klaus's age, and had been their only sexual outlet these past three weeks with their swollen stomachs. Having an adult, a stranger they'd only met two days ago, and his eight-year-old boymate finger fucking them while their toddler stroked and rolled their balls in their sacks was a novel and erotic experience and greatly added to the pleasure of the two thirteen-year-old boys. It was not long before all five of them were sporting erections, even little Karol.

Enrique and Raimundo inhaled and exhaled deeply as the pleasure of their throbbing cocks overrode all else. No matter how many times they jacked off, they never tired of the pleasure that it brought them. They were amazed how many guys denied doing it given how good it felt, and how many adults said it was wrong. They had thought perhaps things were different in the non-Marxist countries where life was not so strict but they had been told that was not so by similar minded boys on the Internet. For Enrique and Raimundo, that pleasure of jerking was doubled when doing it with another guy, and doubled still again when that guy was your twin. Not only did the two boys look identical, they thought identically and felt identically, and knowing the cock they were stroking was identical to their own in every way and that the person stroking their cock was feeling and thinking the same thing brought the two even greater pleasure and brought the two of them even closer.

They had finger fucked each other on occasion, but never with the skill nor zeal that the two Polish turista were presently doing them and they opened and closed their sphincters delightedly as the two fingers slid in and out of their rectums. As for having their balls fondled by a toddler barely a year and a half old and still in diapers, needless to say it was a totally new experience they found surprisingly erotic, and they both resolved that they would raise their own sons to have the same open and healthy attitude toward sex. Inhaling and exhaling deeply now, they arched their backs and sighed with pleasure and anticipation, the pressure in their loins rapidly building and their numbed, swollen cocks throbbing in time with their contractions as if their nuts and their modified appendix were competing to see which would be first.

"Cono! Io viniera!" gasped Raimundo as he arched his back and thrust his hips up.

"I too," groaned Enrique as his nuts, tightly drawn up beneath his numb cock, contracted.

One did not need to know Spanish to know what was happening. To the surprise of the twins, Thaddeus and Klaus rose on their knees simultaneously and slipped their lips over their throbbing cocks, catching their cum in their mouths just in time, their fingers still up their assholes. Spurt after spurt erupted out of the burning tips of their throbbing cocks as if there was no end, causing the cheeks of the two Polish turista to bulge out with the boys' thin, watery loads. At the same time they felt a sharp contraction in their guts expelling their fully-grown fetuses into their ascending colons. As their swollen cocks throbbed repeatedly, squirting out their early teen slime, their colons contracted, working their babies to their rectums. They thrust their bellies in the air and cried out in ecstasy as they pushed out in desperation with all their might. Thaddeus and Klaus drew their fingers out of the two hot, straining assholes and pursing their lips slipped them off the two drained cocks. Quickly switching positions, they pressed their pursed lips against the brothers' two gaping assholes and blew, forcing the watery early-teen cum filling their mouths into the frigged rectums, filling each boy's asshole with the hot, slimy cum of his brother.

The two Cuban boys grunted and snorted as they pushed out with their stomachs, Raimundo's right hand grasping Enrique's left as they clenched their eyes and strained to push out their newborns. Feeling their rectums filling and their sphincters stretching, they pushed out harder, crying out a string of indecipherable Spanish. Wider and wider they felt their sphincters stretching, wider than they had ever been stretched, until at last the bulk in their rectums broke out. The panting and snorting of the two exhausted boys were joined by the first cries of their newborn sons as they took their first breaths, their bodies streaked with their birth father's ass slime and shit and their other father's cum. Their rectums still feeling full, the two boys continued to push out and once again they felt their sphincters being stretched.

"Yes!" called out Thaddeus. "You have another son. Keep pushing!"

They did, both of them, and another two newborns joined the first. Two sets of twins, four identical, dark-eyed, swarthy-skinned boys, half Hispanic, half Ciboney. Placing them in the arms of their astonished, now totally exhausted fathers, Thaddeus and Klaus smiled as they looked down at the naked, slimy bundles of joy and their sweat-streaked thirteen-year-old fathers, the two dark-eyed Cuban teenagers proudly looking down at the most beautiful boys in the world, four identical baby boys just under five and a half pounds [2,500 grams] each. Karol scrambled up on the bed and looking each directly in the face, the toddler excitedly greeted the four little babies. Powitanie maly niemowle! he called in Polish. Hi little baby!

***

Unbuttoning his oversized shirt and shrugging it off, young Xochipilli stood there stark naked and looked out across the high pasture, delighting in the feel of the slight breeze on his sweat-damp skin. He was sweating heavier and heavier every day and with his constantly stuffed up nose he was finding it more and more difficult to breathe. Here in the fresh, dry air of the upper pasture and without the encumbrance of clothing it was easier. He spread his legs and delighted in the feel of the slight breeze between his legs. He glanced down. His protruding stomach had developed a dark line down the middle from his belly button to his pubes a month ago, markedly visible at first but spending as much time as he could naked in the sun had darked his bean-brown skin so that the line blended in more. He couldn't see his dick nor his nuts, and hadn't for the past month, which made taking a pee interesting. He just held it and aimed and hoped for the best. Mind you he'd been having a lot of practice. He had to pee constantly. His clothes had gotten too tight long ago and his mother and father had commented on his sudden and rapid growth spurt since their return to Mexico, and his exceptionally healthy appetite, blaming the clean air of the ranchero and the nourishing, traditional meals the cooks prepared every day. Of course he knew the real reason for his gain in weight. He could feel his baby moving inside him and he could tell when his baby was sleeping and when he was awake. Each day he offered up a prayer to Cihuatcoatl, the goddess of childbirth, thanking her for his child and praying that he would be born healthy.

"Xochipilli, come in the shade before you get sun stroke," called Huitzilin.

Xochipilli turned and grinned up at the swarthy cowboy. He was wearing his thick corduroy riding trousers and leather chaps to protect his legs from the thistles and underbrush and his floppy straw sombrero to shade his eyes from the sun as he always did. His wife joked that he even wore it to bed, which made Xochipilli smile because it was often the last item of clothing his lover removed when they made love and sometimes he didn't even do that. He slowly walked, or more appropriately, waddled, over to his awaiting lover. He was feeling much better these last couple days and despite his swollen stomach he'd continued to be active, even managing to ride the horse Huitzilin had saddled for him, though they'd had to bring the horse next to the patio and he'd needed Huitzilin's help getting up into the saddle. His swollen belly was giving him a sore back and legs lately so he'd been walking as little as possible.

"You are beautiful," Huitzilin observed, dropping to his knees and embracing the boy as Xochipilli stepped up to him.

Xochipilli smiled. Huitzilin told him that three or four times each hour, but he never tired hearing it. The man slowly and gently caressed his protruding stomach, almost as if worshipping it. It was three months since he and Huitzilin had first performed that act that made a baby, and he had gained twenty-four pounds [11 kg] over that time, three-fifths of his original weight, having gone from forty pounds [18 kg] to sixty-four [29 kg], almost all of the gain having gone to his stomach. Huitzilin had joked that it looked like he'd swallowed a watermelon whole, and that was what his stomach looked like, like it contained a watermelon extending lengthwise from his belly button to his smooth, hairless pubes.

As the man's fingers reverently caressed his swollen belly, the skin as tight as a drum, Xochipilli squirmed with erotic delight. The touch was as light as a feather and sent shards of arousal through his super sensitized skin, penetrating his belly and causing his limp little dicklet to immediately begin to swell and rise up. He was feeling especially horny lately, the slightest touch causing his little dicklet to spring to attention and his body to ache for the penetration of his lover's cock. There was nothing so wonderful as that delightful, hooded snake between his lover's legs that was quick to raise its own head and delighted in nothing more than to hide deep in his bowels. He loved the feel of its rigid power and strength when he wrapped his fingers about it. He loved the dank, earthy scent of it and its raw, reptilian flavour. There was nothing so great as a man's cock, and especially the cock of his lover. He loved to stroke it, to suck on it, and especially to feel it deep in his body throbbing out his lover's hot, precious seed into his bowels to be absorbed by his body and to become part of it.

Holding onto Huitzilin for support, he slowly lowered himself to his knees and leaned forward in the bitch position and Huitzilin quickly stripped and took his position behind him. Xochipilli preferred face to face so he could see the joy and lust in his lover's eyes, but with his bulging stomach that was no longer possible. He waited with the impatience of a six-year-old as Huitzilin lubed up his organ and then his opening, eager to begin, not just for the physical pleasure the act brought him, but for the pleasure he knew it brought his lover. When Xochipilli felt the tip of his lover's erect penis press against his asshole, he immediately pushed out with his abdominal muscles and he felt his baby move inside him, reminding him that it was this act that had resulted in the miracle of its conception. Huitzilin's hands grasped his hips as he pressed forward, wedging the knob of his cock in his lubed anus. Ever so slowly it stretched open his sphincter and he pushed out harder, straining to accept that magical wand that brought him such miraculous pleasure. Slowly Huitzilin's hands slid forward along his bulging belly, palms inward, sending tingling, erotic thrills through his skin, skipping along it like sparks of electricity as Huitzilin's stiff cock pressed onward until the knob popped inside. The rest quickly followed and Xochipilli sighed with the pleasure of having his rectum stuffed with his lover's large cock.

He constricted his sphincter, tightening it about the hard, thick shaft shoved up his rectum, and he trembled with delight as Huitzilin slowly began to draw his cock back out, the friction sending ripples of stimulation through the ring as it clamped down on the withdrawing cock. Then as he felt it pause and begin to sink back up his rectum he relaxed his anal muscle and trembled as he felt the knob brush against his prostate, sending shocks of stimulation through his balls, and as he felt the thick shaft once again stuffing his rectum. He loved being fucked. He loved the physical stimulation that caused his asshole to burn and the numb depths of his bowels to feel so full and that sent ripples of arousal through his groin. He loved the satisfaction of bringing his lover the greatest physical pleasure one person can bring another. Fucking was an act of love, or at least it should be and it always was between the two of them, and engaging in that ultimate expression of their love together brought him a warm feeling in his heart.

When they did it face to face with him on his back, he often would stroke himself, adding to the pleasure, and when they did it in their present position Huitzilin would often reach around and jerk him off as he fucked him, but now with his belly so big, it was awkward for him to do so. It really didn't matter. His pregnancy seemed to have somehow heightened all his senses, and especially that of touch, so that just having his ass fucked was enough to make him climax, and often not just once, but several times.

So as Huitzilin slowly began to speed up as his passion and need increased, Xochipilli's desire was increasing also. He closed his eyes and inhaled and exhaled deeply as he felt the tension growing in the pit of his loins, like a clock spring that was being wound up, tighter and tighter and you knew it could only take so much but despite your apprehension you wanted it to get tighter and tighter until it was sprung. As Huitzilin's breathing grew heavier and faster so did his, and as the pressure increased in Huitzilin's groin, so did his, the two of them joined both physically and mentally.

Huitzilin was pounding his backside furiously now, savagely ramming his cock in and out of him. Xochipilli did not mind. In fact he delighted in the man's lust, knowing that he was the cause. He was gasping for breath himself as the man thrust his swollen, throbbing cock in and out of him, banging into him with such force as to almost knock him off balance and causing his pendulous belly to sway dangerously, rocking his little baby to and fro as his big belly swung beneath him. Xochipilli arched his back and tensed as he felt his climax approaching, the spring winding tighter and tighter until at last it sprung and he twitched and jerked uncontrollably as shock after shock ripped through his loins and up his cock. He felt like he had to take a desperate pee and he opened and closed his peehole as he tried to piss and along with it his anus. He thrust his hips forward and drew them back out of sync with the thrusts and withdrawals of his lover, and his dry orgasm was immediately followed by a second and then a third, one crashing on top of the other.

At the same time Huitzilin grasped him tightly as he too climaxed and he rammed his spurting cock in and out of the bucking boy, banging into his buttocks as he thrust forward and Xochipilli drew back, almost drawing right out as he drew back and the boy lunged forward. Spurt after spurt of hot white lava erupted out of his cinder cone, filling the boy's rectum to his delight and to the boy's, sweat pouring off their naked bodies there in the hot, late afternoon Mexican sun. His heart beating wildly in his chest and snorting like one of the ranchero's bulls, his head spun in ecstasy as he filled the asshole of the six-year-old son of his childhood friend with his cum and Xochipilli swayed dizzily and almost fainted with ecstasy as the thick cock of his father's best friend throbbed deep inside him.

***

Salvatore's cock began to swell and its head slowly rose to better see the erotic strip tease being performed for his benefit. It was the beginning of July, four months since he'd first sunk his aching verga up the dank depths of his employer's six-year-old son, and the hot Mediterranean sun beat down relentlessly on the island and the surrounding turquoise sea that Sunday morning. It was going to be another hot day and it was still a month before Sicily would reach its peak summer temperatures. The grapes were set on the vines and had the promise of being a bumper crop that year. That it had been a good spring was evident from the abundant fruit hanging from the olive grove at the far end of the Prechello estate where he had taken Benito that morning while his wife and children attended morning mass along with the rest of the Prechello family and most of the residents of the villa and surrounding countryside. Being a good Catholic and family man, he usually attended church with his wife and children but these last few weeks he'd stayed on the estate to keep an eye on Benito who had gotten too big to sit in the pews and who wouldn't have been able to sit that long without having to take a leak anyway.

He watched as the boy slipped off his sandals and stepped out of the baggy trousers and men's boxers that he'd been wearing for the past month. Pulling the smock over his head, he dropped it on the ground beside his other clothes and stood there naked and unashamed before his lover, the father of the child in his belly. There was no doubt in either of their minds that he was pregnant. Salvatore had a son and three girls. He knew all a man had to know about pregnancy. Besides his swelling stomach, young Benito had shown all the signs that his wife had shown, the morning sickness, the mood swings, the appetite for two and continual snacking between meals, the sore back and leg cramps, the heartburn and difficulty breathing, and the need to piss every hour on the hour. If that was not evidence enough, he had first placed his hand on Benito's distended stomach several weeks ago and felt the baby kicking himself

Just under four feet [1.20 m] tall, Benito had gone from forty-three pounds [20 kg] to seventy-five [34 kg] in the past four months, most of his weight going to his bulbous stomach, carried all in front and up high, and the rest to his chest, giving him the boobs of a young girl entering her adolescence. In Salvatore's eyes, the boy looked beautiful, more beautiful than Venus or Demeter, more handsome than Apollo or Michelangelo's David. His darkly handsome looks and dark, seductive eyes, his smooth, olive brown skin, his now firm little breasts, and his gorgeous stomach ballooning out from his waist so he looked like a walking light bulb were all a joy to behold.

He reached out and ran the tips of his fingers gently along the curve of the boy's budding breasts, following the firm bulge from under his arms along his ribs to the centre of his chest and then following the curvature of his other breast around and up to his left armpit. The thought of those small, firm mounds filling with milk and of the boy breast feeding their baby caused his already swelling cock to swell faster. The boy's little dicklet was swelling also, the result of his gentle caress. The boy had gotten extra sensitive with his pregnancy, the slightest touch causing him to pop a little boner, the boy's little wiener looking even smaller jutting out from under his tremendous stomach. Salvatore's fingers continued down, along that huge, beautiful bulge, the skin taut and the flesh firm as an apple. The boy squirmed and jerked with his caress, his stomach as sensitive to touch as his newly formed boobs. Salvatore's fingers followed the bulge out and down as it curved back to Benito's smooth, hairless pubes, a perfectly shaped bulb. He could feel their baby move. There was no doubt in his mind that there was indeed a baby inside that beautiful stomach. How the boy was going to possibly last another five months he had no idea. Certainly he could not swell any further, his belly already protruding every bit as much as his wife's ever had. Benito jerked sharply.

"Is everything all right?" Salvatore asked worriedly.

"Uh-huh," Benito replied. "I just felt an electric buzz down my legs and up my asshole."

"Little Antonio is settling in to a more comfortable position," Salvatore said with a smile, having read up on pregnancy and knowing it was a natural sensation, though according to the Internet site that wasn't suppose to happen until around the thirty-eighth week, and of course the buzz was supposed to be up the vagina, not the rectum. The bumps Benito had reported having, which the site said was the baby having hiccoughs, were also supposed to occur toward the end of the pregnancy, which was a bit of a concern. "On the other hand, perhaps it is just you. You are always feeling an electric buzz up your asshole," Salvatore teased fondly. It was true. Benito was always eager to fuck, but since his pregnancy he'd become insatiable, which was quite all right with Salvatore. He had long before Benito's arrival lost interest in his wife and he was quite prepared to satisfy Benito's urges as often as the six-year-old boy wanted, which, he thought with a smile, was putting even a virile, thirty-eight year old man like himself to the test.

"That buzz I only have when your verga is up it," Benito said with a giggle. "And it looks like it is eager to do just that right now," he observed, looking down at the obvious bulge in Salvatore's trousers.

"And you, my horny ragazzo, are always eager for it to do just that."

"I am," he giggled.

Salvatore helped the boy down so he was on his hands and knees in the shade of the old olive tree and quickly stripping off his clothes, he dropped down behind him. Taking out the tube of KY, which since meeting Benito he'd never gone anywhere without, he squeezed a generous dollop out and greased up his already erect cock. Spreading apart the boy's ass cheeks, he inserted first one and then two fingers up the boy's rectum, wiping off his fingers and lubing the boy's hole at the same time.

"You are sure you are up to this?"

"Yes! Stop delaying!" the boy ordered, mostly out of desperation and childish impatience though the Prechello authority and temper momentarily showed through.

Salvatore was taken aback for a moment, remembering that this was his boss's six-year-old son he was about to screw, but then smiled. His wife had never been half this eager. Shuffling up closer to the boy, he placed the tip of his greased cock against the boy's lubed hole and grasping his hips, he slowly eased forward and the boy immediately relaxed his sphincter and opened up for him. He went slowly and gently, as he always did, not wanting to cause the boy any pain, and in his condition, not wanting him to strain. He was generously endowed though, his cock long and thick, and no matter how well greased the two of them were, there had to be some strain. He had to have screwed the boy's ass well over a hundred times these past four months, but the boy was still just as tight as he had been that first day, much to Salvatore's delight. His wife's twat had gotten loose and weak by the end of the first year and after the birth of their first child he might as well have thrust his cock in a bowl of jello.

He pressed on ever so slowly, his bulb slowly stretching open the boy's sphincter until it popped inside. He paused, to allow himself to recover as much as for the boy, and then slowly sank his shaft the rest of the way in. He had wondered about having sex with his wife once she'd gotten pregnant, but hadn't had to worry for as soon as she found out she was with child she cut him off. Benito, on the other hand, seemed to have become even hornier with his pregnancy, which was a delight as Salvatore found the boy's condition highly erotic and was in a state of arousal almost as frequently as the boy. He had again read up on it, and every pregnancy site said it was all right to have sex as long as the man was gentle and didn't put pressure on the belly, at least up to the last weeks of pregnancy. Of course, those recommendations were for a woman! Someone should really create a site for men!

He smiled at that idea. There would not be much of a need for such a site he imagined, nor much interest. He slowly drew his hips back, easing his cock back, and he felt Benito's asshole clench his cock. What a joy it was to have a partner who loved sex as much as a man did, and participated in the act along with him instead of seeing sex as a woman's unfortunate duty and just laying there like a smelly, limp rag. Slipping his arms about the boy and placing his hands against his swollen belly to help support it as much as to help support himself, he slowly sank his cock back up the boy's hot, moist rectum until his coarse hairs were brushing against the boy's buttocks. Inhaling deeply, the morning air scented with the fresh, green grass and the olive trees and the sea, he closed his eyes in delight as he drew back again and exhaled. Leaning over so his hairy chest brushed against the boy's smooth, olive-brown back, he inhaled deeply once again, delighting now in the fresh fragrance of a six-year-old boy in heat.

Never had he been so much in love. Never had sex been such a delight. Kneeling there in the olive grove, looking out across the bluff at the beautiful Mediterranean as he slowly worked his aching, throbbing cock in and out of the boy's hot, moist rectum, he marvelled at how delightful sex with the boy was. His cock throbbed with pleasure and the boy's hot, moist rectum squeezed around it and throbbed in time with his own pulse. The knob of his swollen member burned delightfully as he worked his cock in and out of the boy, and the boy squirmed with obvious pleasure. As he pumped his cock in and out of the boy's rectum, he gently caressed his bulbous stomach, so smooth and so firm and so large he could no longer reach around it and touch the fingertips of both hands.

The pressure in his loins gradually increased, and along with it, the speed of his thrusts and withdrawals. He opened and closed his peehole as he concentrated on the burning pleasure rippling through his blood-engorged knob and growing in intensity. He was breathing heavier now and sweat was beginning to trickle down his chest, dampening his thick, dark chest hair. It was a beautiful Sicilian summer day, a great day to be alive and to be making love. He kissed the nape of the panting, perspiring boy and placing his hands against the boy's belly, palms down, he felt their baby move inside him and he threw back his head and began to spurt his hot, thick seed up the boy's rectum as the boy arched his back and twitched with his own orgasm. As he filled the boy's asshole with his hot, thick slime that Sunday morning, Salvatore offered up a prayer to God, thanking Him for bringing him Benito Prechello, thanking Him for making him a boylover, and thanking Him for the baby growing in his boymate's belly. Most would find that strange. Indeed, they would find it sacrilegious, but Salvatore had his own concept of God, and God's will. A God who allowed the Mafia to exist and the rich and powerful to live side by side with the poor, why not the boylover? And a God who allowed terrorism and wars and killing and suffering, why not the miracle of a man and a boy conceiving a child?

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