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Happy Birthday, Little Buddy


SpunkJunkyPissHound

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He’d been 18 for just over a month and a half, and here he was, curled up in my bed, sweating and shivering, “shaking like a dog shitting razor blades” as my grandfather used to say. Damn if he didn’t look cute. His nose was so stuffed up, he couldn’t even taste my sour piss in the chicken soup I ladled into his waiting mouth. Lifting the sweat soaked sheets as he drifted in and out of consciousness, I was pleased to see the dirty, used butt plug I’d given him for his birthday was lodged in his convulsing guts. His magnificent blond baby-maker lay shriveled and soggy against thigh, sticking to the perspiration as the transformation worked its magic in his testicles and thoroughly marinated prostate.

Dropping my filthy jeans and boxers to the ground, I lifted is head and sat my stinking ass down on his warm pillow, before pressing my lethal cock head to his sweet little lips. We would need to milk that big dick of his a few times during this process, just to make sure the last of his immature ejaculate was released from his system forever, but that could wait. With a nice loud fart, muffled a little by the down feathers blocking my hole, I let my new Son nurse on his big Daddy’s dripping cock, as its poisonous nutrients snaked their way into his tummy. My fat corona swelled with pride as my pregnant son instinctively suckled my death stick. There’s an old joke that goes something like: “What’s the difference between a Chicken and a Urinal? A Urinal won’t follow you around for three months after you use it! None the less, the sick little kunt had earned my respect.

He replied to an on line ad, “Sick and Twisted Father seeks Long Lost Son to Use, Abuse and Educate”. He said he LOVED my picture and he really, really liked my profile… what he understood of it, he admitted. His profile didn’t feature a picture, and the description was brief. "Male, 18 years old, 6 feet, 180 lbs, 8 in, UC,, seeking a hot older male to show me the ropes and make me a man." There were red flags right from the beginning.

When we spoke on the phone the first time at around 4pm, he said I couldn’t call him, because he wouldn’t be getting a cell-phone until his birthday, next month. He couldn’t talk at night because he had a…. housemate. When I asked what he was ‘ in to’, he said “everything”. “Everything?” I inquired, “Seriously?” “Anything you want to do to me,” was his oh so innocent reply. “What’s your favorite kind of porn?" “Magazines…. Or whatever’s free online…” he explained that he didn’t have a credit card yet, so he wasn’t very familiar with subscription sites. I asked him when he wanted to meet, but before we could set a date, he said that “his mo….roommate” was home and he had to go.

He called the next day. 4 o’clock on the dot. I had lots of questions. He mentioned ‘school’, but not which collage or university he went to. He said he really liked this one popular mainstream fetish site- some ancient porn company’s attempt to breach the kink market without breaking any of ‘the rules’. I laughed. “When I watch men fucking, I want to see real men, really fucking. All these pretty shaved little twinks, trying to impregnate plastic bags bores me to tears. Straight porn is better then gay hefty-sack porn” Before recommending my favorite hard core breeding, fisting and piss site, I explained to him how to delete his “History” on the computer he was using, and at 3 minutes to 5… he suddenly had to go again. Saturday and Sunday were silent, but come Monday, one minute after 4, he called. He LOVED the website! He was amazed that guys drank piss and swallowed it and that you could fit another man's forearm in your ass without dying. He said he’d even tried drinking his own piss and he LOVED it… He said he came the second he swallowed. He wished he had a credit card so he could buy one of the dvds on line.

I asked him if he’d ever had a “daddy” before, and he explained that his own father left, or was thrown out by his mother, when he was 5 or 6. Other than a hidden photograph, he didn’t remember anything about his old man, but his mother said he was “a sick and disgusting pervert.” Laughing, I explained that I too, was a sick and disgusting pervert and I wanted to sign my name inside his ass. We talked every weekday, and there was always some reason why we couldn’t meet. He had school at that time, or his mo…housemate would be home…or …he had chores.

Finally I asked if he wanted to come spend his birthday weekend at my place. He asked how I knew it was going to be his birthday, and I reminded him what he said about getting a cell-phone. “19’s awfully old for your first phone,” I added “19?” He asked. I didn’t push it any further. Instead I suggested we meet, before he decided. Just so he could be sure that I wasn’t a cannibal, and he agreed.

We met in the toilet of a near by park, where he stood anxiously at the trough as instructed, dick hanging out, desperately waiting for trouble to find him. Lucky for him, I stepped in. Popping open my jeans , I released my cock and balls, giving them a good scratch and tug, before letting loose with my toxic yellow stream. Just little spurts at first, since I wanted the show to last. Hanging limp, his skinny dick had been impressive, but in a matter of seconds it was pointing as far up in the air a gravity would allow, I was impressed.

Dropping two fingers into my urine stream, I wetted them thoroughly before bringing them up to his closed lips. He hesitated, but when I said in a stern voice, “Open wide for Daddy,” he did. My rank, piss soaked digits pushed down on his tongue for less than a four seconds, before his bloated and backed-up nuts sent jizz s jumping from his tight phimosis , as it tried desperately to catch up to my dick waste, wandering it was way towards the gum and snot clotted drain. The unretractable foreskin, even on such a well worked dick spoke of his frustration and of the cruelest kind of neglect. Looking at his bliss soaked face, I could tell he was a very young 18. When he reached for my meat, I stepped back, and explained that I there would be plenty of time to teach him the rules for playing in public toilets, after I had made him my son, inside and out. Now there was no hesitation. He wanted to spend the weekend with me. He had figured out a way we could do it. Could I pick him up on Friday after noon between 4:00 and 4:30 ? He wouldn’t give me his home address, but told me the corner where he’d be waiting.

Handing him a black plastic bag, I told this was a “Preview Present” that he’d need to use to get ready for his big day. Inside, where 2 dvds, my favorite RawFuck/Piss/Fist vid from the website he liked so much, and one from another company, about men who like to get gang banged and impregnated while they are blind folded. I also included a small, starter sized butt plug that had been up so many beginner butt-holes I’d lost count, and 5 swollen and bloated scumbags, filled with cum,- three I’d made myself for him, each contain four loads apiece, plus two full ones I’d found in the bushes on my way to meet him. I explained that when we talked next week, I would tell him what to do with them. “Have you ever been fucked before, Son?”He paused and then shyly admitted, “No.” “Call me Papa….” I instructed. “No, Papa, I’ve never been fucked before,” he confessed, as the last of his thick white pearls clung to his long pointing shaft and tight little balls. Looking at his monster meat there, knowing that it was still growing, made me grin. If this worked out, he would have no problem passing along my DNA for the rest of his life.

End Part ONE

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Cumming Soon:

Part Two: Timmy’s 18 Load Birthday: Instruction, Insemination, and Implantation

In Chem Sex Fiction

Part Three: CherryPop: The Father, The Son and the Holey Whore

In Str8/ Bi-sex Fiction

Edited by Hotload84
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Love it! Those first paragraphs with the sick son are great. We all know what's wrong with the kid, yet you manage to avoid to say it explicit by using synonyms and euphemisms. Can't wait for the sequel.

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Load #16: The withered, lesion- scarred hand of the once stunning muscle god, desperately gripped my birthday boy’s perfectly round rump, and pushed another two inches of his deadly black Mamba deep into the trembling youth’s cum-starved kunt. “Please, please, sir,” the kid begged as he bit into his pillow.

350 000 vl hadn’t dropped in 6moths, ever since his meds stopped working. The porn sensation once known as ‘Muscle Man Mike’, decided against that last chemotherapy series they said he desperately needed. He knew his party was over, and feeling the freshly broken kunt grasping and massaging the full length of his oozing fuck club, he knew this kid’s adventures had just begun.

My son reared his head up and spoke so the man behind him, inside him, could hear his plea, “Please, Sir,…. Please mister, Bug me up,… I’ll take good care of it…I promise…

Mike wanted to make this last load last, but a crowd had gathered to bare witness, the passing of the torch as it were, and he always loved an audience.

As he slapped his venom bloated balls against the grinding little animal’s sticky taint, he gritted his few remaining teeth and slurred into the sweet cumdump’s ear, “Careful of what you ask for….” Bam… “You….” Bam “Just Might…” Bam Bam” Get….” Bam Bam Bam….”IT!”

Sometimes, a tight, tripping ass can detect the spasm of a the urethra, or the change in heart rate or blood pressure of the cock up inside it, but few can really feel jizz at body temperature squirt in, But this kind donor had a temperature of 102.5, and the neglected youth felt every burning glob fired into his battered ass-lining. The pure animal heat of the feverish dong filling his colon and lower intestine, soothed his abused of his innards.

As quick as he could, the student spun around, once his donor pulled the last noxious centimeter from his still gripping ass. On his knees, he raised the slimy spent shaft to his parched lips. Gently, his newly trained tongue explores the black man’s foreskin for any remnants of his jizz, or the others, or his own gut slop. Opening his throat so that he could clean the shiny shaft down to the matted base, he barely felt his ass-ring pop, as his Dad once again tapped the warm and sticky butt plug back into its natural place.

Informed Consent

“You really 18?”

“……Yeah.”

“Got ID?”

“I…… don’t Drive.”

“Okay, so I am going to need you to give me your word…”

“My word…?”

“It’s all a man has.”

“I am 18 years old…. Tod….”

“Nope, don’t say it, just strip down to your undies so we can have a little talk, Son.”

Brownish-blond patches of fur peeked out from his armpits, as he pulled off his shirt. No chest hair, just the thinnest of fuzz forming a treasure trail leading down into his over stuffed tighty-whitties.

“So how did your dick get so damn big, wrapped up in those chastity panties? Those things are designed to retard penile development, you know.’

He explained that since the age of 12, he always let his cock, and sometimes his balls, hang outside his briefs, so his meat could grow and expand of its own free will.

In just his tennis shoes and his jockies, he sat on the floor between my legs.

Maybe it was cheating, asking him to pay attention AFTER I’d let him pull my cock and balls out of my 501’s , but I wanted him to get a good look at the menu before I started with the disclaimers.

“You asked that I “make you a man”, and that’s my goal. This weekend, me and my buddies will be working on making you the best Gay Man you can be, but I know it doesn’t always stick. Do you know the difference between a ‘Man” and a ‘Gay Man’?”

Was it a trick question? The kid’s gaze shifted from my hairy crotch to my face. He looked confused.

“A Gay Man is just the same as any other kind of Man, except for a series of reasons, he is not willing to be Domesticated in order to have access to pussy.”

“A Man’s biological imperative is to spread all of the DNA he can. A true Gay man seeks not only to spread as much of it as he can, but to also generate or consume all the DNA available to him, especially when it comes in the form of thick, warm ejaculate, or as my Pa called it, “Man Milk”. You say you haven’t been fucked, but have you eaten sperm before?

The enthusiastic youth smiled and nodded, “I eat my own all the time, and I’ve sucked off my buddies before.”

“You swallow their spunk?”

“Always”

“Oh, you make your Dad so proud when he hears that.”

“Can I suck your dick now, sir ?”

“Hold on, hold on there, Sport. Now that you are of the age of consent, there are a few things you need to know before you can consent….

“Some Men, and that includes Gay Men, are afraid of Sex. They are afraid of their own assholes, their own desires, or their God, and even sometimes their own sperm. Our Puritan society exploits men’s sexual desires and at the very same time teaches them to fear sex. Too many Gay Men these days fear their own sexuality so much, that they have started acting like needy/demanding straight women, who use sex as a commodity or as tool to manipulate the sexualities of others. I want my son to be ‘FEARLESS’. Are you fearless boy?”

The kid’s eyes had grown wide. Looking back down at my dick, as it slowly came to life right in front of his face, he whispered”… yes.”

“Then before we get started, you need to know that I carry the HIV virus, one of the viruses that is thought to cause AIDS. If you choose to be my son, you will be exposed to this virus repeatedly, and will most likely end up infected with it by the time were done this weekend.

“I work with a small cabal of armature eugenicists,” I went on to explain, ”trying to breed a super virulent, non-lethal strain of the virus through repeated exposure and transmission. But we are well aware that we could also unintentionally be creating a jizz so poisonous it might kill on contact.

“For any son of mine who wasn’t made from my DNA, I want him to consume enough of my genetic material that his DNA is transformed into mine. Do you want your daddy’s dangerous seed swimming around inside you, moving from your intestines and your stomach into your bloodstream?”

“Yes.”

“Even if it might kill you?”

“YES. I would rather live a short positive life, than grow old and then die, too frighten to ever really fuck..’

Though I don’t do it as often as a father should, I held the kid’s smooth face in my hands and kissed him on the lips, entering his unpolluted body for the very first time with my dirty slime sucking tongue. Then, standing up, I pushed his face back into my pubes, letting him breath in my crotch stink as he repeatedly kissed my cock and balls. “Stay where you are, Boy”

“Have you ever gotten stoned before, Son ?” I asked from the kitchen.

Again, that sweet “deer in the headlight’ look. Was this another trick question? he must have been wondering. “…..Uhm…”

“You know,” I clarified, ”smoked Mary Jane, reefer…. marijuana?”

“Yeah….” He confessed with all the guilt of a poorly educated American youth, ”a couple times or so. With my buddies… before a movie… or…ummm”

“Very good,” I assured him, “It’s sad how our society tries to terrify the curious.” Returning from the refrigerator with a small plate, I presented my special birthday boy with a thick chocolate brownie, topped with a single black candle. “Here you go, Son…, Happy Birthday.”

The next hour, we spent fiddling about on the couch. Curled up between my thighs, the curious imp had free access to my hairy Daddy meat. Using his hands, his lips and his nose, he explored my paternal package from every angle. I instructed him in how to remove his Daddy’s boots, and as he bent over to work on the right one, I reached out and ripped a hole in the back of his undies, so I could survey his almost hairless, virgin hole, while he wiggled at my feet.

Removing my jeans and boxers, I took a lot of time to stand on his face and chest, giving him the opportunity to sniff and suck on my raunchy socks as his skinny hips involuntarily fucked the air.

Returning to the seated position, I scooted my hairy ass to the edge of the sofa and popped one of my legs over the armrest, offering the starving boy full access to his first male doughnut. Like a true son of mine, his first instinct was to lick and suck on the man-lips offered, but I wanted to build his appetite.

“Sniff it. Your gonna have to fuck it with your nose, before I’ll let you fuck it with your tongue.”

He took his time, and I took the opportunity to quiz him about what he didn’t understand on my profile, all the while encouraging him to lick and stick his fingers up my ass before telling him to lick them and stick them back in his mouth. Even before he was allowed to French kiss my ring, a beautiful trail of charged ass-slime connected his sweet lips to my salty shit-chute.

Even though he had never been with a “grown up” before, he’d done his research. When I asked him what ‘raunchy’ meant, he said, “that’s gross stuff, right? Dirty underwear, boogers, sweat… piss ‘n shit ‘n stuff like that ?”

“And that’s fine by you?”

“Whatever you’re into, that’s what I wanna try…..” I could have cum right then.

The only two references he did not know were “Scat” which he though may have to do with music, which he thought was real fucking weird, and he assumed “K9” was probably some kind of puppy-play, and then, just to get his daddy’s nuts in a knot, he said, “but I don’t want you to explain everything all at once…. I want to be surprised too.”

So I explained the course his education would take. Today was going to be all about the fundamentals every man should know about “The Accommodation of the Male Member and the Ingestion of Human Ejaculate”, and before his big Birthday party that night, I would take him to the park to teach him “The Etiquette of Cum Hunting in Public Toilets and Woodlands.”

My goal was that he would get at least 18 loads up his ass and another 18 down his throat, before his day was done. I also expected him to cum at least 18 times over the course of the weekend. But before his butt breeding would begin, he needed his first lesson: “Proper Anal Hygiene.

The Master bedroom and my playroom, or as we would be calling it, ‘the Nursery’ were separated by the Master bath, and the tile of the walk-in shower is where his training would begin. Although it was equipped with two heads and two hoses, I thought I would show him the advantages of the tradition gravity flow enema bag, three of which hung in my Piss Parlor. Tonight we’d begin with a gentle rises, and later on he could learn how to use the power washers.

Fathers and sons who lived together, knew all about each other’s piss and shit early on, so I sought to reproduce this biological familiarity, a key element of the Parent/Offspring bond. I made it clear that was a ‘ safe zone’- he was free to piss and shit and puke in the shower without fear of retribution or punishment.

Bags 1&2: After demonstrating how and why the hose should be emptied of air, I approach his upturned rump, that perfect pale pucker offered up to his old man’s alter, and slowly began Rimming 101. When his moaning started to become a distraction, I licked the nozzle and penetrated his ass.

I told him to imagine his own father urinating up inside him, as I worked the clamp, releasing both bursts and streams of warm liquid into his bottomless belly. It’s good to start with warm if your going for the full gut flush. Cold is best for a quick rinse. His whimpering coincided with the vacuum forming in the bag, and I kept his head down for a couple minutes to let the flow sink in. He knew instinctively to suck my dick as we waited.

Once his cramping got too much, I told him to stand up. Rubbing his swollen stomach sparked my rod something fierce. Gravity was trying to gut him while I flicked his erect nips, and parted his bloated belly. “Okay boy, you can squat down and grunt it all out now…”

“Right…here?’

“We’re in a shower. Right there’s the drai….” But gravity won out over his modesty, and down he went with his face back in my crotch, and the ******* of his foul waste splashed the tile and washef around our feet.”

“That’s it… fart it out for Daddy…Those are the muscles you need to know how to use….Now, clamp down.” The kid looked up through glassy black pupils in awe and disbelief, at all the strange sensations rushing around his body, the bloating, the release, and the stink…, it was all way beyond what the kid had expected… and this was only lesson one.

With the second bag, I told him a little about myself, and how “20 years ago, my wife took off with my three year old son, after she decided my family’s traditional way of naturally and painlessly retracting his foreskin was disgusting and obscene. Two years later, she wrote to tell me that she’d had him circumcised, as if by sexually mutilating him, she was getting even with me. Then after another 14 years, without a card or graduation announcement, I got photocopy of his obituary in the mail.”

By bag 3, the cold water rinse, I had started taking his hand in mine, showing him how to check on his progress, inserting our wet fingers into his inviting colon. “First you check that it looks clean, and then once it does, you need to see if the juice smells clean, and finally, to want to check that your juice tastes clean. You don’t want to serve up a shitty hole, unless that’s what someone’s askin’ for.”

Bag 4 would make a nice treat, and the perfect seg-way to my bedroom. “Here Son, stand up and piss in this bag”, he’d peed out most of the sports-drink I’d been filling him up with, while he was bearing down to empty his bowels. Still, he had a couple of cups of urine in him that he managed to squeeze trough his rock hard dick. I made sure to praise his ability to piss while erect, before saying, “Now hold that bag open of Daddy….”

Our warm stinking piss mingled together in the enema bag, before I bent him over and slipped the nozzle into his most hole, so that our liquids could continue mixing in his guts. “This is the best way to rinse out when you’re camping…” I explained to him like a good Dad should…”though this is not my favorite method for delivery…”.

Retrieving his butt plug from where it has slopped by the drain, I inserted it temporarily, to insure that our combined waste could wash away some of his mucus membrane in his intestinal lining, so my juices and our juices could begin the process of passing from his walls into his blood stream.

Cupping the base of the butt-plug I began to roll it around in my palm, massaging his sensitized interior. “Do you like the way Daddy’s piss feels up inside you Son?”

“Yesssss Papa… it feels sooooo good”

We kissed, wet and naked in the shower, until I could taste my own waste on his breath, and the smell my stink leaking out of his pores.

“Okay Son, your time has almost come, “ I grunted “With each lesson, they will be a test. Are you ready for your first exam?

“YES Papa!”

Pushing my wet beard into his little ear, I slurred, “Now I’m gonna ask you to do something in a minute or two. Your rational mind is going to shriek back in fear and say that’s dirty…. That’s Dis-Gust-ing…,that’s Dangerous, OR your carnal mind is going to say….’More1” If your rational mind tells you to freak out, then I promise you, we will stop right here, no harm, no foul… but if your carnal mind takes over… well, then know that I’m going to brand my name into your gut. Deal?

“Deal”

“Now I need you to clamp down as I pull the plug out slowly. I don’t want you to loose a drop. You got that kid?”

And with that, I spun him around, got down behind him, and began to remove one of the three barriers separating my flesh from his. Like a champ, he didn’t miss more than a drop or two, which I quickly caught with my tongue as I moved it in to replace the plug, while stashing the kid’s warm wet toy in my own kunt, for safe keeping.

His tender, pressurized sphincter was no match for his Pa’s big Tasting Dragon, and up into his colon I went, like mouthing a water balloon until its ready to explode. Is there any paradox sweeter than the piss filled virgin?

“Okay Boy…. Fart for Daddy”

No remorse, no fear, no hesitation! The combined force of his piss, my piss, the last of his douche water and protective mucus lining galloped down my gullet and out the through my nose, until I had to gargle out “Clamp it!”

And he did.

His legs and clenching butt-cheeks trembled with excitement.

“Ready to go again?” I asked, and I like a natural born son of mine he said…

“I was born READY, Pa!”

My laughter was quenched by another wave of his gut wash, and this time, instead of swallowing it all down, I held on to a mouth full, and let the rest of our potent mixture spill out over my beard and chin, on to my belly and down into my crotch, where it washed over my enraged Spitting Serpent as it stood ready to strike.

Spinning the boy around on the slimy surface, I faced him again with nothing but pride and raw lust in my eyes. Pulling his sweet virgin lips to mine, I spit our combined sewage over his newly discovered tongue, and he swallowed it…Fluid exchange, simple and puur, out of his butt and back down his throat again, along with large portion of my spit and love.

Picking him up, I carried his wet dripping body into my bed room before throwing him down on the leather bed cover. Still dripping with his filth, I flipped him on his back and examined my new wiggling fuck-toy’s glistening little twat.

Spread eagle with ankles pointed to heaven, his innocent pucker taunted me, whispering something that I just wasn’t close enough to hear. Kneeling before his sweet sacrifice, I kiss his wet hole, tasting our joined essence, as I used my fingers and tongue to dig around in his vulnerable yet so inviting insides. A purist would have given him a good brushing then and there, but I wanted to savor the integrity of his unmarred flesh, for a little while longer.

But my drooling dick wouldn’t wait…

Standing, and spitting, I hit the bull’s eye, and began sloshing my dick piss-slit in the puddles of spit, ass juice and precum forming and foaming over his back gate. With only the slightest of pressure on his lips, I pressed my venom dripping corona into the tender anus, as I smiled, and snarled, and grunted.

Yet once inside the virgin kunt, my cock head slammed tight in a sudden trap. Whether the kid hurt, or if he was startled, I don’t know. All I know is the intense contraction caused my cock to erupt, spontaneously spilling my first sinister load in to his newly discovered guts.

His eyes opened wide and fixed on mine as I press my spasming dick head a inch and a half in deeper inside him. My cock-snot now replaced all that natural lubricant that our combined piss had washed away. I slid into my boy following a pure undiluted trail of tainted daddy milk.

Only for a second did I wonder if my own father had enjoyed it this much. Had there been this kind of build up…this mind twisting anticipation before he popped my cherry, or was it really a drunken accident, a happy collision as it were?

My newly bred boy moaned and brought me back to the present.

“Thank you..Daddy….”

And in reply, I sank another two inches in, answered in kind by a sudden gasp from my special kunt-boi…. Daddy’s little spermbank….

An inch latter, and it looked like I had bottomed out. One fuck-door at a time, I told myself, taking a moment to let my nuts reload, and giving me the opportunity to massage my infections romance in to the first part of his ass. Had I not shot right away, I might have been tempted to rape him like a bull moose would, and plow my dagger-dick in deadly and deep, but with the pressure off my prostate, I could enjoy his insides and the way his freshly ripoened rectum suckled and nursed on my nasty milky dick.

For a good five minutes, I rooted around just inside the door, white washing his walls and warming his cum channel up for the real ride.

Rocking him back and forth against my lap, I told him how proud I was of him, and what a hot hungry fuck hole he had, and how happy all our buddies were going to be when they got to feel what I’m feeling. And then I asked him, “Are you ready to get fucked?”

He paused as if it was another trick question”……please?”

“When I tell you, I want you to bare down like you’re farting, just like we practiced after school.’

With the gentlest little grunt, his bowels opened and welcomed his father deep in his uncharted depths. The perfect place to plant my flag.

“Are you Daddy’s little cum whore?” my seething dong demanded I ask.

“Please Papa, I wanna be your cum whore…:

“So you’re gonna let your Father pimp out your tight, needy hot-box to all those rank and ugly deviants who want to pay you with clotted jizz deposits?’

“Please”

“Oh have I got a special party planned for you. There are some sick, evil fuckers who want to terrible things to your insides while I watch.” What father doesn’t long to see his offspring filled with dick at both ends and bloated with a gallon of anonymous nutt-sludge?

“And if you get older…. if you start making Boys of your own…Do you promise to share your sons with your daddy?’

“I do, Dad….’

“And what do you want boy?

“Dick, Sir, I want more dick. I want your sick sauce, your death goo deep in me….I want to be your carrier, your courier…. I want to have your babies….”

That did it. My first load had been mostly high charged seminal fluid, but this batch was a ball buster that made my urethra twist and shout. Like thick wads of salty spent chewing gum, I coated his lower intestines with my goopy lethal jisim, and then pounded it in, nailing the hard chunks into place with my hammer-slammer.

Wad after wad of tainted dick juice seared inside his ravenous teeny-twat.

Did his legs break, or his pelvis crush from the force? I remember a little screaming and then the wonderful warmth of my demon seed escaping from my bloated balls, rushing in and splashing over my boy’s freshly divided soul. Using every vein and hair on my slime slicked shaft, I rubbed my sleazy sludge into his welcoming wound.

My son’s genes would live again inside this surrogate’s needy kunt. This boy was now tagged and mangled by my paternal DNA. The little fuck hole was mine until the day he died.

A few minutes later, I instructed him how to use his mouth to clean me up, removing the junk stopper from my own fetid asshole and pushed it back in to his newly seeded playground. As his tongue dug in my public hair, savoring the last few drops of his lost youth, I grabbed the empty beer stein from the bed-stand beside me and told him to hold Papas’ pork hose.

We rested for a few minutes, sharing the bubbly mug of full of my warm piss and discharge. He said it tasted a lot better than ass-piss, and I encouraged him to enjoy the fresh taste. He would soon learn to love the taste of everything that comes out of his father’s body.

In anticipating that this whole scene just might work out, I had been active on my favorite sites the week before. The park would be filled with Bears and Wolves, and my little boy wasn’t coming back to his party until there was semen leaking out his nose.

Now that my sperm swam wildly around in side him, and his tummy was filled with his papa’s yummy pee-pee, he was my Son, marked inside and out, and it was time to get his freshly broken butt well and thoroughly knocked up.

Let the insemination begin!

Part Three: Timmy’s 18 Load Birthday Breeding

In Sex with Enhancements Fiction

Part Four: CherryPop: The Father, The Son and the Holey Whore

In Str8/ Bi-sex Fiction

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  • 3 weeks later...

Down on his knees and elbows, my Son offered up his freshly seeded teen-twat for my sick and twisted experiments. As billions of my mutant sperm bit and dug their way into his yummy little insides, I prepared my special “process”, equal parts beer and Papa piss mixed with a hefty serving of the finest Tina that the Hell’s Angles could supply, served up in a smelly old anal syringe.

If I were a purest, I’d worry that the mini-drug enema would fuck up the implantation process, but the kid’s ass had only just begun to feast on toxic cock-snot. He still had another 16 loads to go before his hard-core toothbrush massage.

The combined urine and alcohol made the perfect delivery system for the meth, and as he sat in the passenger seat of my pick up on the way to the park, the speed soaked into his ass-lining along with his daddy’s demon seed. My cock grew rock hard as I watched him blast off, his hands alternating between his swollen briefs and suddenly sensitized nipples.

Before leaving the house, I’d let him blow a couple quick loads in my man-hole, and I swear I could feel his uncharged wads bubbling and twisting around inside me, like he’d shot pop-rocks up my ass. My hope had been that by draining his balls, his focus would shift to his newly ignited suck hole and fuck hole, and from the way his hands reached between his legs and fiddled around with the slimy used butt-plug holding this cocktail in place, I was pretty sure I’d succeeded, for now.

Like most Friday afternoons just after work, the old park parking lot was packed with cars, but some of the attendees where surely there due to the two ads I posted on my favorite bareback sites. One ad simply said that “ my home schooled son has just turned 18. He is an insatiable little cum junkie who needs to be bred and fed by as many cocks as possible, regardless of looks, size, color, age, or viral status.”

The other ad for ‘Poz Players Only’ was much more sinister and received a far greater response. Marketing to those who long to violate and destroy the innocent, I explained that I’d “discovered that my teen age son was a cock sucking little faggot who needed to be taught a deep and permanent lesson about giving his tight little kunt away to strangers. The sicker the better, with preference given to the highest viral loads.” Those who responded were also invited to his breeding party, after he finished his play-date in the park. 30 twisted fuckers RSVP’ed, so I imagined at least 10 would actually show up.

With his tennis shoes pressed against the roof of the cab, I removed his warm sticky kunt-stopper like a dipstick and jammed my fingers around inside his hungry wound to make sure his special energy drink had been completely absorbed. My fingernails came out just a little pink, but not too wet, so I pushed them into his mouth for a good cleaning. His chemically inspired tongue went nuts trying to eat up all his own ass-slime. With my other hand, I undid my belt and pulled down the back of my pants enough to slip the wet plug into my own oozing butt for safe keeping.

Looking across the lot, I saw my cousin Jack’s old Chevy parked near the trail head, with his buddy Eddie sitting in the driver’s seat. We walked over to the car, and I introduced my son. The retired truck driver and registered sex offe* grinned as he shook the kid’s hand.

“That’s quite a grip you got there, Sport.”

“And that’s not his best one,” I joked “Is Jack out looking for Richard?”

“He won the coin toss, so he gets to go first. I’ll see you in there when he’s done.”

Before hitting the head, I lead the kid down the wooded trail, and explained a little of the etiquette for scoring free range cock. In my favorite alcove, I took his shirt and told him to drop his pants. He hesitated only until I released my aching dick from my jeans. Jack had spotted me and followed us in, grinning as the tweeking little cock hound went to work on my manhood.

“That’s it boy, suck daddy’s dangerous dick.” Spreading the punk’s butt-cheeks, I silently offered up his tight pucker for my cousin’s inspection.

Jack was ten years older than me, but his delicious uncut dick was an inch shorter. I had been nursing on that constantly dripping skin of his for as long as I could remember, and it filled me with a special pride to know that the second cock to cum in the kid would come from family, as I had always planned for my own youngen. I never knew if Jack had infected me or if I had bugged him up. Or it we’d been poisoned independently, and just kept it in the clan.

His nose lead his tongue as it does with dogs, Jack started munching on the tyke’s pretty pucker. Moaning with his mouthful, another inch of my meat slithered into my kid’s throat. “Care for a slice of cherry pie?” I offered.

“Cherry cream pie’s my favorite,” my uncle’s son mumbled into my son’s kunt.

Thanks to the spit shine and the copious flow of charged pre-cum that leaked from his snout, no other lube was required for the kid’s second injection. With a bit of a grunt and a push, the head breached the ring as my son inhaled more of my flesh.

“Jesus Fucking Christ,” Jack sighed as his tainted meat wiggled its way into our little fuck toy’s twat. Rocking back and forth, he pushed and pulled the kid between us, providing our boy with fine birthday spit-roast. And true to form, my son’s virgin prostate acted as a powerful jizz magnet, pulling a billion sperm from the horny old dog’s hairy nuts.

“Do you want your Uncle Jack to cum in your ass, Son?”, I asked the groaning little fucker, and he whimpered in response. “Then tell him, boy. Ask your Uncle Jack for his goopy Dick Wads.”

Releasing his father’s slimy meat, the flying youth begged, “ Please… please Uncle Jack, please cum in my guts. I need it soooo ba…” but that’s as far as he got before my best bud dressed the kid’s insides with his filthy fuck fluid. He jerked and jerked and paused and jerked one final time as the last globs shot from his shaft into his newly made nephew.

“Now when a man is good enough to give you his load, sSn, you need to say “thank you” by licking it clean. You got that?”

My boy turned, and I knelt beside him and guided the first cock I ever sucked into his hungry gullet. “Get your tongue up inside that skin, and see how you taste inside.”

Jack groaned as my son cleaned the scum from under his corona. “Now kiss those balls and say ‘thank you’,” I said holding up the hairy scrotum to his smooth young face.

Before we could finish our little ritual, someone stepped from the bushes and pushed his dick into the studling’s recently vacated and freshly lubed hole. “That’s it, buddy, fuck my son good and hard” I encouraged the stranger.

“Is he really your son?” the opportunist asked through gritted teeth.

“We share the same DNA,” I answered truthfully, now that two squirmy loads of the kid’s benign spunk were swimming around inside my colon.

“You sick bastard,” he grunted at me, as Jack began working his reinflating dick around my sperm hound’s sweet mouth.

The new guy might have been hot naked, but fully clothed, he looked like a professor, but he fucked with the vigor of a serious breeder.

“I read you ad on Nut-hunt. Is he real1y 18?”

“I’m required by law to say that he is,“ I whispered evilly, “And you know what? Your are the third man who has ever fucked him.”

“Seriously?” he asked as he pounded harder and faster.

“Know what else? You’re the only guy outside our family who’s ever touched the inside of his ass…” That did it.

He jerked, and slammed, and froze, and jerked, squirting a serious backlog of his nut juice deep into my boy’s tenderized rectal lining. He shook the kid as he shook.

Something in the bushes had caught my eye, two red heads standing side by side, watching. One was taller, one was much shorter, and I’d guess they were anywhere from 10 to 20 years apart. They shared many of the same facial features. Were they like Jack and me? Kissin’ cousins on a cum hunt? Or were they the real deal? Before I could give it much thought, the taller, older one stepped forward, just as my son turned around to clean the accommodating stranger’s still granite hard dick.

“Should I put on a rubber?” Big red asked.

“He’s clean,” I assured him, and then added, “plus he has a latex allergy.”

He didn’t hesitate a second longer, releasing his long red, pencil dick and stepping in behind the boy.

The first stranger pulled me away without putting his dick back in his pants.

“Hey dude? Do you get fucked too? I’ve always really wanted to fuck a father and son.”

The boy seemed to be handling himself just fine, Jack looked like he would soon be waxing the kid’s tonsils, so I thought ‘what the fuck’. My rational brain said it would be good for the boy to see his pa taking it like a man, and my irrational mind never passed down a chance at seed.

Squeezing tightly to retain my payload, I pulled out the plug, much to my new friends surprise. I passed it to my cousin who slopped it into the kid’s suddenly vacated mouth and told him not to drop it.

Hands against the tree, just a few paces from my son and his new anonymous boyfriend, I pulled my cheeks apart before being suddenly stabbed by this guy’s merciless meat. He’d been a lot gentler with the boy than he was with me, starting me out at double speed. Not how I normally liked it right off the bat, but I don’t complain once I get it inside.

“You know what?” he spit a whisper into my ear, “ I read BOTH your ads, and I gotta tell you….You’re one sick son of a bitch.”

“What can I say? He wanted more spunk than we could give him at home.”

He was trying to rupture my ass, and whatever he had taken had given him a diamond dick. There was only one thing to do in this situation.

“You’re son fucked up,” he slurred “and now he’s fucked up too. I just pozzed his little kunt with my toxic shit, and now I’m going to bug you up good….”

I clamped down as hard as I could on the base of his meat, and jerked with my ass muscles as I moaned “no….No…” over and over again, struggling for his benefit, without ever loosening my grip and that was all it took for his second nut to pop.

My kid’s sweet seed was suddenly spoiled by this stranger’s tainted meat. I squeezed and massaged it to get every drop of his lethal steal shaft. Just as Big Red froze and trembled in place. While trying to look upset about getting knocked up on the outside, on the inside, I was sparked up as my fucked up boy took his fifth load of the day.

Red didn’t wait to be cleaned up by my appreciative little cum courier, stepping back into the bushes where his own little buddy silently waited. As I led my sick stud over to the kid for a clean up, I retrieved the spit shined plug from his mouth, and inserted the mean stelther’s penis in its place, returning our family cum-cork back into my own bruised and sticky backside.

While the kid slobbered all over the slimy death-treat we had just both shared, Big Red pushed his own young companion down to his knees behind the bushes to taste my boy’s free range gut-juice, as it dripped down his spent rod.

“He’s gonna get a good kunt brushing about 11 00 tonight,” I said breaking character and giving the guy my address. “Come by and cum again if you want”

The abandoned unmaintained public toilets were just as busy as the bushes. While we waited for stall #2 to open up, the one with a glory hole on either side, I lead my slutty toy to a vacant gap between the two dudes loitering at the trough, and put my sweaty arm over his bare shoulder.

“You know what this is, Son?

“A Urinal?”

“That’s right, but it’s something more than that. This is a temple. It was conceived and exists solely to bring relief to the male member. It doesn’t care about color or religion, or how old or how young or how rich or how poor the cock is. It stands here, every day, waiting to swallow down all the fluid it can accommodate, and then in bathes in the overflow that remains. Before there were hook-up sites, or bars, or even bath house, men have always gathered together indoors and outdoors, in places like this, to pull out their meat and let nature take its course. Now kneel down and show your respect.”

Obediently, my dazed little cum-dumpster dropped to his knees, and opened his mouth. The old guy next to him watched intently, his wrinkled Vienna sausage poking up out of his zipper. “Need some help?” I asked.

Before the grey haired gent could pull back in fear, my fucked up kid lunged at the octogenarian’s randy red pecker and swallowed it whole. Smiling, I assured the startled senior that everything was cool.

In the porn version, the beautiful blond cock-hound at the center of the slurp-fest would be surrounded by stunning professional sex gods, but in real life, the men are a lot uglier but the cum is much tastier, and rarely ever wasted. Grandpa seemed entranced with the youngster’s shiny hair and soft cheeks, and grinned sweetly as the two guys at the sinks stepped over and pulled out their dicks. Without much meat munch on, my little sperm muncher took a few moments to worship the old bull’s massive balls, kissing them, and licking them, and rolling them around on his face hand eyes. Such attention was too much for the kindly codger to handle, and I had to tell the kid to quickly get his mouth over the head.

Bending over, I whispered in the kid’s ear, “Don’t swallow it yet. Hold that goo in your mouth for a while.”

Zipping up quickly, Gramps wobbled over to the sink to wash his hands, and I asked the kid to show me what he had for lunch.

Opening his mouth like a baby bird, he sort of smiled and showed me his cum coated tongue, covered in thick curds of cock jelly. One of the dudes jacking beside me couldn’t wait for his turn and stepped up aimed another nut load my cum-whore’s open maw. Some of the thick white jizz hit his nose and cheek, but the twisted fucker managed to beat 90% of his load right on my little slop swallower’s spunk-shined taste buds.

A Latino stud of about forty stepped up next and inserted his surprising fat skin-covered meat into my son’s slimed filled mouth, pushing the other dudes’ ejaculate down his throat and out the sides of his lips. Drunk on spunk, the schoolboy swallowed his thick stinky chorizo down to the pubes. For someone who didn’t seem to know what he was doing when he suckled me on the couch two hours before, Daddy’s Little Cocksucker turned out to be a very quick study.

After two minutes of tapping those tonsils, Papi Grande stepped back to cool down and let the other guy take a turn. Tall, skinny and waving a flagpole, the young stud in his sweat pants and yellow tennis shoes must have been beating his meat since the day he was born. Watching my boy’s effort to drain every testicle in the toilet had been so distracting I’d some how missed the massive meat he’d been wagging right next to me.

My son’s dilated pupils focused on the new guy’s huge fleshsicle for only a second before he stared slapping the kid’s face with it. Not many people outside the porn industry, or the circus, could handle something so big, and the guy seemed intent on playing keep away from the drugged up teenager for long as he could. For a split second my suck student looked up at me like he needed my help, silently begging me to intervene, but the cock flogging was too hot to stop.

Papi Grande came to his rescue instead by grabbing a handful of the kid’s blond hair and redirecting his attention back to the beautiful brown pig sticker with the plumb sized purple head. The Jogger fed on the competition and suddenly a sword fight broke out in the little deviant’s mouth.

Back and forth, back and forth, my sweet suck hole did his damndest to service the sausages swinging in front of him, but the older guy couldn’t keep up. Grabbing the kid’s ears, he slammed his fat phallus into the back of my son’s throat and fired.

The boy swallowed and swallowed almost like the dude had started pissing. How much cum the kid ate, I couldn’t tell, but he began to gag and choke on all the nut-gravy flooding his battered gullet. And that set off the Jogger.

Before the thick brown meat was full removed, the second cock-head pushed into his already stuffed mouth and started spraypainting the Spanish guy’s meat with wad after wad of thick cock slop. Spit, snot and slime splashed from Junior’s nose and the sides of his lips. He looked like he might pass out from lack of oxygen, but to his credit, he didn’t drop the blood gorded dude dongs until both cum cannon’s had stopped firing.

Behind me, I heard the sound of a stall door slam, and looking back I saw that Cowboy boots from door #2 had finally left the building. “Stay where you are Son. Don’t try to stand up. Just follow me like you are,” Like a loyal puppy, he followed me on his hands and knees.

Call me a deranged deviant if you will, but the sight of my freshly baptized flesh and blood crawling like a drunken toddler on the filthy tile floor of derelict shit-house, filled me with a sense of pride that’s hard to express. Some say speed will make you do stupid things, but truth is that it only amplifies what’s already buried deep inside.

The clogged toilet hadn’t be flushed, and a fat stinking butt brick about 11 inches long and 3 inches wide rested firmly on a pillow of soggy paper, and right on top, a knotted scum bag filled a good ounce of white gold. I quickly reached in and pulled out the prize, tucking the wet rubber in my breast pocket before taking a seat. Once again, my kneeling Son smiled at me from between my legs.

Reaching down, I took his face in my hands and began licking the spittle and spew from his lips, nose and cheeks before pushed my tongue in his ravenous, drug crazed gob. His eyes closed liked he was being kissed for the first time in some romantic movie, as I explored his throat and tongue with my own slime sucker.

To my right, a floppy monster dick and set of hairy, bloated balls popped through the hole in the wall, and I recognized it right away as my “Uncle” Eddie’s most prized possession. Shortly after my own father had pulverized my cherry, transforming it into his own private pussy-pudding, my cousin Jack introduced to his favorite dirty old man. Where my dad only humped me late at night when his was drunk and mom had passed out on the couch, Uncle Eddie wanted inside my ass 24/7, whenever and wherever he could get into it.

I kissed the sleeping giant before holding it up for my son to taste. The boy’s breathing slowly returned to normal, and he held the full package in his soiled hands like a stuffed stocking on Christmas day. Sniffing the sweaty scrotum like a bouquet of flowers, Junior inhaled deeply, before opening his cum hungry gob once again. Just as the blood flow brought the resting beast to life, a tiny little fundamentalist’s pecker poked through the glory hole on my left.

Knowing how much the swollen schlong would hurt the first time, I figured the kid would need all the lube he could get, so I shifted his attention to Reverend Shiny-shoe’s wee willy winky, spreading my son’s smooth butt cheeks and pressing his hungry little kunt right up the scum coated prick porthole.

From the size of the three inch pizzle and the way its owner seemed to be trembling, I figured the poor dude hadn’t had many opportunities to get up inside such a beautiful young thing, and I was right. After less then a minute of whining and sighing, a high pitched shriek exploded of the title around us, as the polished Sunday shoes danced in place. I had a feeling Junior wasn’t the only one in the head who lost his virginity that day. From the ferocity of the quick zip, the slam of the stall and the thump of the out house entryway, it sounded like the little dicked donor was running for his life.

Junior look at me like he wasn’t sure he’d even been fucked, but that was all about to change as I gripped the base of my Uncle’s big baby-maker, and turned the kid’s freshly spunked jizz-trap towards the very special treat.

Uncle Eddie picked up his viral strain at the local penitentiary, and from what I understand it wasn’t a pleasant experience. The combined evil of dozens of junkies, street whores, serial rapists and lifers stewed and brewed in the filthy old perverts swollen low hangers, and it was about to be injected straight into our sweet sacrifice’s needy intestines.

“Bare down just a little bit, Son. Not too much. You don’t want to loose that sweet payload, but just enough to get the head in. He’ll know what to do with you after that,” I whispered, aiming up the throbbing man missile with it’s tiny, tight target.

They grunted in unison as the oozing purple slime-knob breached the freshly stretched sphincter. At its thickest point, the butt-plug me and the kid had been sharing was about an inch in diameter smaller than the dripping corona that had just punctured his kunt-ring. I kicked myself for forgetting the poppers.

“Breath deep, Son, and just keep grunting like a good boy,” I coached him.

Though I’d been intimately familiar with the twisted *edo’s butt-club form three quarters of my life, I swear to the Baby Jesus, it got bigger every fucking year. Thank God, I’d taken those Lamaz courses with my teen-bride all those years ago. A little hyperventilation was all my Surrogate Son needed to fit the next five inches of penis slowly up is to his sperm coated rectum. But without the Amyl, I doubted the kid would be able the get it in passed his second door. Good thing Eddie always preferred his fuck-holes unnaturally tight.

As Luck would have it, those familiar yellow running shoes and grey sweats appeared below the patrician opposite, moments before the young stud’s long and “relatively” slim Colon Snake slipped through the recently vacated glory-hole across from the kid’s painfully clinched face. What’s a Dad to do?

The kid needed to focus on something beyond the gut wrenching ramrod roaming around recklessly inside his tender rump. Did my little Speed demon recognize the long shlong that had so recently battered his handsome cheeks and pregnant esophagus? Using both his grunge coated hands, my boy instinctively pulled the resurrected hose to his lips.

Squeezing down, I pulled the plug from my poisonous pucker and set it precariously on the rim of the turd filled bowl, as a stood and stepped between my spit-roasted suckling pig and the Jogger’s juicy javelin. Distracting my kid with a kiss, I grabbed the rock hard rooster and pushed it up into my goopy guts.

My birthday boy quivered and whimpered as his new uncle tried to rip him a new one. Sighing in his open mouth, I licked his swollen lips and sore throat, exploring his uvula before giving him the rare treat of his first nostril cleansing. He trembled as my tongue tried to slither its way up into his unexplored sinuses.

Tempted as I was to steal another load from the kid, I pulled off when the athlete’s pounding started signaling that he was getting close to the finish line. Quickly I pushed Junior’s mouth back down of the pozz smeared beef-stick that I’d just released from my nasty grip.

“About Face,” I ordered, but my boy’s cock-stuffed mumbles indicated his confusion. “Turn around,” I translated.

With visible relief on his face, he dislodged from my so-called uncle’s sperminator, and sat back on the jogger’s pulsing prick. And wouldn’t you know it, after 6 inches on the skinnier dick, his second door quickly popped open to allow the other 3 and a half inches in.

I took a moment to comfort and clean Eddie’s veiny butt-bat, noticing a little blood mixed in with the all the jizz that the kid had already collected from 5 accommodating strangers. The worlds greatest athlete couldn’t last very long in the drug deranged youngster’s hot-box, and soon the boy stopped bouncing his butt against the wall behind him as the warm spray of man-milk washed and rinsed his innards.

Always the ATM fan, I repeated the “about face” command after the generous sperm donor had times to squeeze out the last chunky globs, and my little champ and I shared his slick slime coated fuck-stick, as the randy old perv in the next stall took a second stab at the punk’s properly stretched pucker.

On the second go, Eddie managed to get the whole fucking thing in balls deep, and instead of wincing in pain, Junior now surfed an endorphin rush like he was riding at pony. I let the kid lick our butt-plug again like a ditch bitch’s lollipop, before returning it to it proper place, alongside the dense scumbag I’d retrieved earlier from the toilet after puncturing the tip with my teeth.

As coincidence would have it, a six and a half inch penile pointer poked it’s head out from the prick portal, dress up all pretty and protective in a pink plastic prophylactic. As the kid bent down to take the spermicide slathered safety sack in his mouth, I stopped him. No matter how much the camouflaged hefty sack looked like a yummy red doggie dick, I wasn’t going to let my boy waste his time on an amateur.

Thumping and grunting in unison, I recognized that familiar sound of my buddy reaching his peek. Holding my son firmly in place, I prevented him from escaping or pulling back from the brutal pounding Uncle Eddy was about to deliver. The filth that spewed for his mouth was truly fucking depraved. Unfortunately, the law prevents me from repeating suck sick and disgusting expletives here.

Tears welled up in my little buddy’s eyes even though his suddenly tranquil expression indicated that he may have simply slipped into a state of shock. A lion roared and all the patricians in the public pissior shook. My guess is that my second favorite father figure hadn’t beat off in a couple of days, because his groans were almost defining. I hoped that no one in the next county called 911.

“You ready to go home yet, Sport?” I asked out of sincere concern, while the blissed out youth stood still with his eyes closed, doing he best to massage out the last few drops into his ravaged yet still ravenous cum-canyon.

“Please Papa…. Just one more…then we can go home….I promise, Please….” He pleaded, just as if he were the natural byproduct of my own bulbous balls.

“Okay then Son. Squeeze down as tight as you can, and then cum sit on daddy’s lap.”

Eddie didn’t wait for the clean up. He buttoned his jeans and grunted “See you at 7,” before exiting stall #1.

Some guys just can’t take a hint. Rubber man wouldn’t vacate his place, and as my smooth sweat soaked stud-ling shivered and snuggled in my furry arm. I could see the hunger and temptation playing across my jizz-junky’s cute face.

Fortunately, nature intervened. Door #1, opened and closed, and eye peeked through empty hole, followed shortly there after by two coaxing fingers. The boy’s butt battering had taken its toll on his own yummy prize, but I figured a good blow job might just be the thing to tighten up his mangled ass rings and shift his focus, so we could get the fuck away from the precious pink pricklette planted patiently in the other blow-hole.

Whoever the mystery man was kneeling behind the wall, my son’s sighs and whimpers indicated that he had clearly made a friend for life. I’m embarrassed to say I had not thought for a second that the kid would be interested in enjoying a glory-hole from the other side, but as they say, like father like son. He turned and smiled at me for a second, as I noticed the guy on his knees stood up and showed off his heels. Junior’s eyes opened wide as Mr. Mysterious guided my boy’s longer than average prick into an unseen butt.

Now the kid started practicing what he’d been studying all day, fucking the anonymous asshole with a vigor born from testosterone saturation. Grunt. Plug. Grunt. Plug, my Son put on a hell of a show. Soon he was whispering his own brand of filth, slamming his meat hard it to some unknown ‘tattletale’ who clearly deserved the what my boy was dishing out. “Tell mommy about THAT, you fucking little cry-b…” he shouted at the ceiling as his kneecaps slammed brutally into the barrier separating him from his prey.

Captain Condom held his ground the whole time, and I found my inspiration in Junior’s juicy rage. Watching the shoes on the side turn round once again as the lad’s lucky recipient demonstrated the pure pleasure and indescribable delight of the post fuck tongue bath, I reached over and gripped Pinkie’s poker with my hand. Turning his attention back to me, my boys seemed shock at my perceived reversal, but I wasn’t about to disappoint my young apprentice.

Squeezing the synthetic pseudo-shield in a less than friendly manner, I leaned over and caught the reservoir tip with my teeth, removing it cleanly, before smiling at my son and making the “shhhhh” sign by pressing my stinky finer to my lips. “Okay Son, “ I said just loud enough for the struggling stranger to hear, “One last ride, and then its time to go.”

There’s nothing like blowing a load to realign a man’s ass rings, and despite Uncle Jack brutal bludgeoning, Junior’s posterior had snapped back into showroom condition. 5 loads allowed him to slip down on the latex death-trap with ease, though I told him in no uncertain terms to “Grip it tight as you can for Daddy.”

Had the stupid, rude fuck-head ever felt the actual inside of a man’s body before? I have no idea, but I was certain my boys’ ass-lips had done an excellent job of pealing back the protective wrapper, exposing the raw corona and wasted urethra to my fuck toy’s lethally coated guts.

Slipping me the evilest little sneer, my boy humped up and down, hard and fast, revealing a bit of that a mean streak that made me love him all the more. After waiting so long, and succumbing to the indescribable warm wet delight of actual skin on skin contact, the interloper couldn’t hold back any longer, just as my son refused to left go. The unseen figure beside us moaned loudly, as I reached in between the boy and the ball buster to squeeze his nuts and grip the base of his spasming shaft. I could feel he seed pulsing and pushing out his piss shoot into my son’s insatiable walls. When he finally felt ready to retract his inconsiderate prick from our playground, I held the prophylactic ring with my fingers, creating the illusion that I’d waited until he was done to dislodge it and its contents.

I held up the decapitated and shredded sperm killer for my boy to see. Isn’t it great to share a secret? With one final plop, I returned our common kunt stopper back into my teenager’s ravaged rectum, trying my best to secure the half dozen nut loads of potentially poisonous ball sauce, but several strands on the infectious silver slime slithered their way out in an attempt to impregnate the back of his thighs. Using two fingers, I scooped up the escapees and shoved them into my own mouth, savoring the salty sick taste of his venom fortified birthday treats.

The Toilet Gods must have been smiling on us because just as the clueless bastard behind the wall was about ready to engage us in conversation, a distant car horn gave three long loud bursts, as a concerned citizen graciously notified all his fellow fuck hounds and cum hunter that a police car had just rolled into the parking lot. I gave my son his t-shirt and a big sperm coated kiss on lips before we exited our stall, and headed back to my place for the main event.

8 loads in and 10 more to go!

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