Happy Birthday, Little Buddy

[pozpopperpig]

Would have loved to have been turned out like that. This cumslut needed a twisted perverted Daddy to turn it out! Can't wait for the next installment!

[YoungCUmholeBottom]

Wow...just wow. I really can't wait for the next installment - this boy reminds of me so much...reserved at first but such a slut inside!

[breedme420]

Good god I cant wait for the next installment! When I was that age, I would have given almost anything to have a Daddy like that in my life! Keep up the writing! You are definitely a master of the art! :-)

[pozpigluvr]

These are hot stories!! Thanks for sharing!!

[SpunkJunkyPissHound]

On his back with his goopy glossy pucker pointed to Heaven, my birthday boy’s pulverized pink porthole pulsed in anticipation of the bowel brushing he was about to receive. Despite the almost constant pounding he sweet virgin kunt had taken over the last 6 hours, Junior’s pouting pussy-lips rebounded nicely, still capable of creating a seal to retain the dozen and a half tainted loads of biohazardous baby-batter marinating his prostate and basting his battered rectal walls.

He claimed to have just turned 18, and we took him on his word. He wanted me to make him a man, and having just seen the rage filled fuck he just thrown into Psycho-Mike, he was well on his way. Watching his jizz smeared teeny-twat twitch made my balls ache and my mouth water, as I fought the urge to wrap my lips around his shit-chute and suck out that fetid fuck-slime, like so much rattlesnake venom. Instead, I hit the button on the GumGripper2000 and felt the bristles of the electric toothbrush begin scraping and scrubbing my own slime saturated manhole.

Not too hard, not too soft, I clicked it off before removing the juicy pink head of the once white brush from my buffed up butt-tunnel, and smiled. It passed the test.

“It’s up to you now, Son,” I said handing him the silenced rectal rasper, “if you want to join our club, all you gotta do is slip this nasty brush up your butt and press this blood stained button. Be careful though,” I said holding the poppers bottle to his lips, as he sucked in nice and deep, “it just might kill you”.

******

After our adventures in the park, we’d taken an hour to cool down a bit at my place before his pozzing party really got started. He cleaned my armpits, my ass hole and my feet, pawing at my pecker, begging for another load. I gave him his own pay-as-you-go cel-phone just for hook ups, and to call me to bail him out of jail if the cops ever caught him lurking in the bushes or toilets. To offset the speed rushing through his blood stream, I began feeding him beers- legal at 18 in this State. We cuddled on the couch, as he nursed on my swollen nipples, doing his damndest to try and suck spunk out through my man-tits, and from the way his hungry mouth boned me up, he was getting pretty close to succeeding, when the doorbell rang.

Eddie and Jack were the first to arrive, I was glad to have the back up, so I could focus on fucking up my son without having to worry about strangers fucking up my apartment. The kid’s instinct was to dive for their dicks, and I found myself threatening to hand cuff him, if he couldn’t restrain himself.

I explained that they would be helping me with some of his future lessons. Jack and Eddie would be back the next night for his next course on Watersports, and they would also be in charge of his K9 training when he was ready for it, and after I said that my older cousin suddenly remembered he had some frozen treats for later in his back pack, and he got up to put them in the freezer.

Instinctively, my son dropped down between Ed’s thick thighs as he reclined in the leather lazy-boy, while Jack and I went to the kitchen. While my cousin laid-out a few thick white lines for us to enjoy before the show, he deposited five frozen cubes in my freezer, “Puppy Treats” he liked to call them, and then pulled out a couple small wax cups containing bright yellow Jello-shots, made from a mix of his own rank chem-piss combined with a copious helping of canine ejaculate.

“I want you to call me ‘Grandpa’ from now on,” Eddie said stroking the kid’s soft hair, as the sweet cheeked teen bathed in the comforting affection of the depraved pervert. After his release from the state pen, the Judge ordered that he be chemically castrated, but fortunately, his court appointed doctor shared Eddie’s sick interests, and provided him monthly testosterone injections instead, in exchange for specialty porn, an occasional ass-full of the old guy’s nut-sauce, and the promise that the filthy old freak would find “socially acceptable” sources for his tightly twisted desires. If the kid associated the kindly grandfather figure with monster meat that tore up his kunt through the glory hole, I don’t know, but he appeared to have bonded seamlessly with the friendly stranger.

“Swallow this,” I instructed the kid, handing him the Dixie cup. The next one we’d make him chew, but for now, the lemon flavored speed-treat slipped into his beer filled belly without the slightest hint of revulsion.

When the doorbell rang, we had Junior climb up on the coffee table on his hands and knees. He still wore his not so white jockey shorts, but now the entire backend was shredded like poor man’s jock strap. Jack secured a paper cone birthday hat to his head with the thin elastic band slipping under our sweet sacrifice’s smooth chin.

If you saw Lenny and Karl on the street, you probably wouldn’t give them a second look, but at the baths, they never bothered with towels, because their long floppy death-sticks did all the talking for them. They were sort of local celebrities featured in the spunk soaked bareback films from the San Francisco company, and frequently starred in the Piss/Fist epics from those brilliant bastards out of San Diego/ Palm Springs.

Both men took their time appraising the kid’s unmarred alabaster skin, circling him and caressing his hyper-sensitized flesh with their black and white hands respectively. Where Lenny dropped to his knees and began supping softly on the boy’s pink pucker, Karl presented the boy with the fresh biohazard tattoo still oozing blood and ink at the base of his spine. Although wound licking is pretty much at the top of every “Do Not List” for new tats, the brown skinned stud took a moment to enjoy soothing sensation of the little horndog’s innocent tongue on his tenderized epidermis.

Bending over further, Karl offered up his thick black asshole to the boy’s lips, along with the toxic load from the tattoo artist that bubbled just inside his door. As the slick salty sperm swam out of the man’s ass into the kid’s mouth, his skinny buddy stood up and dropped his pants. A sigh escaped from all three of us sitting on the couch, as we watched Lenny cradle his 10 inch gut lance in the palm of his hand. The next sudden intake of air came from the kid, as the porn star pushed his poisonous plunger deep in the blond boy’s sticky hole.

Karl turned and offered my Son’s gaping mouth 9 and a half inches pure Blatino beefsteak, and used it to wax the kid’s jizz smeared tongue. Who knows how many holes he had fucked with that big thing? Junior certainly didn’t care as he attempted to deep throat as much of it as he could before it grew to hard to bend.

As exhibitionists extraordinaire, the two studs took their time putting on a show for their more than appreciative audience. As the meth penetrated our sinuses and blood streams, Jack and I couldn’t help but beat our meat as we watched Junior get plugged at both ends

My little tweeker’s tight cum canyon started working it’s magic on Lenny, and he needed to stop and switch places with his black bud, now rock hard and ready to ram. Junior went to town on the slime coated schlong dripping in front of him, swallowing all the ass-juice and spent seed he could manage, as Karl took a stab at his ass. When they switched places again, I couldn’t help but engage in a little audience participation.

On my back, I slipped under my Son to get a view of their prostate pillaging up-close. The front of the kid’s jockeys were already wet from his precum as they pounded the piss out of him, and I reached my tongue up into the gap between Lenny’s veiny shaft and Junior’s jelly ring. Worshiping the master swordsmen’s rod and balls, came with its own reward, as he began alternating between fucking the kid’s goo coated kunt and my constantly cum hungry throat. From my son’s ass to his dad’s mouth, as nature intended. He and Karl switched again, giving me the opportunity to service the deadly black shaft as well. I know that if I didn’t quit soon, I would not be able to stop myself from devouring the kid’s cummy-kunt lips as well, so I wiggled out as soon as I heard the sound of the doorbell.

Eddie answered for me, as the two performers repositioned our little fuck puppet for their grand finale. The flexible little fucker flipped on his back, supporting his weight on his neck and shoulders, with his hungry hole positioned between them and his own slime soaked pouch immediately above his spit and splooge coated face.

As a new anonymous donor made his way into the living room, Lenny and Karl straddled the kid and the table, taking turns torturing the teen’s sperm vault with their dueling dickheads. One would go in, just as the other popped out, back and forth, each getting harder and closer as they watched their buddy try to break open the boy. When their sweat finally began forming puddles on the coffee table, running down the kid’s pinned thighs, they crossed a line I didn’t expect my Son to reach for another month.

Both dudes, rammed their bloated red and purple heads in to the cumdump’s suddenly gapping hole, and fired their infections loads simultaneously through the maxed out sphincter as all three screamed out in pleasure and pain. Junior struggled to free himself just as his masters tried to force another inch of their spasming wad riffles into his thrashing body. Jack quickly dropped his jeans and set his asshole on the kid’s mouth to muffle his cries and offer some distraction as the studs continued to drain their nuts, before slowly reentering the atmosphere.

Karl pulled his purple knob out first, bending over to kiss his buddy’s shaft where it remained lodged. Feeling the tight sex object beneath him suddenly relax, Jack stood up and stepped away from his seat, just as Lenny suddenly plunged the full length of his ramrod back in balls deep, slamming their combined slime as far down into the kid’s intestinal track as his 10 inch baby-maker could reach. Junior’s sudden sigh was met by Karl’s snot covered corona as it spread their blended filth all over the inside of my Son’s gaping mouth.

Lenny pulled out and came around to push his dick in beside his co-conspirators, so the birthday boy could hold them both in his mouth. Watching the drug crazed teen franticly try to scour both penises for all the leftovers he could, suggested that he bore them no ill will for his first DP, no matter how much pain he might have been in just moments before.

Using my two index fingers, I examined Junior’s rump-ring for any serious rips or tears, surprised once again that his ass lips remained, for the most part, intact. Lenny and Karl’s mouths were filled with each other’s tongues, just as the kid’s gob was stretched to capacity by their deflating dicks. Knowing what they wanted to do next, I had to stop them before the tried downing the poor boy with their urine.

“The night’s too young for him to start puking… just yet,” I hated to disappoint my guests, but to my pleasure and surprise they lead the newest party guest to the bathroom to relieve their bladders, giving the kid a chance to recover his breath. His grandpa stroked his hair and kissed his slime covered cheeks, whispering about what a good little trooper we was.

Over the course of the next three hours, another 5 guys would show up to pay their respects, and though a few weren’t interested in giving their names, only one left without signing his name in the honey soaked guestbook the kid had kept hidden secretly between his butt cheeks for the last 18 years.

Our buddy Doug showed up with a very special treat, his new fuck zombie, filthyrigshit (yes, the name has been changed to protect the deviant). A year and a half ago, the collage football star was 6 units away from graduating, when he blew out his knee and was told he’d never play ball again. His first slam lead to a pozzing party not unlike the one we were hosting for junior, but what a difference 18 months could make.

filthyrigshit had never so much as smoked a joint or jerked off with a buddy before he met Psycho Mike, but all of that changed once the weak willed college athlete found himself on point. Not many of us in these parts, other than Lenny and Karl, get a chance to fuck a guy who looks like an old fashioned Colt model, and at the time, we thought he was like my son- a boy who wanted to be accepted in the company of men. When Psycho Mike invited us to his breeding bash, we had no idea when were participating in the ex-jock’s slow suicide. Hell, from the way the jock begged to be “raped” and “infected”, we assumed he was just one of the gang, not some strung out straight junkie willing to say anything he was told to get a fix. Mike even told him that we had all hidden crystal up our asses, and that he’d need to eat our shit to get to it, which the damaged heterosexual eagerly did with both hands by the end of the night.

Talk about a walking “cautionary tale.” He quit college and lost 120 lbs, moving from basement to basement and master to master. His once flawless skin was now covered in the worst tattoos you have ever seen, including his neck, lip and forehead. One nipple and his cock head had been split, yet he still managed to pierce ever other dangling part of himself that his latest owner wanted ram a piece of steel through. His hollow eyes and gaunt cheekbones spoke of a creature not long for this world. Psycho Mike didn’t even recognize his own creation when he showed up just before 10:00. Still my invite did say, “all loads welcome” though I doubted fithyrigshit could get it up long enough to make a donation.

One curious stranger, who arrived at the door with his dick out, kept watching my son’s cluster fuck with the same intensity that he kept checking his watch. From his wedding ring and his shyness about joining in the gangbang, I suspected that he wasn’t even positive. But he didn’t have a rubber, so I did my best to be open-minded. When I tried chatting up the Tourist with No Name, he asked if he could do the kid alone. I explained that it was a party, but offered him my own ass in the bedroom, if he was in a hurry. Five minutes later, his pants zipped up, and out the door he went, while his sperm of indeterminate status remained behind, mingling together with the other three loads and the pulverized condom swimming around inside my fetid colon.

After accepting another 3 deposits in his spermbank, and 3 more down his throat, Junior stopped for a little breather, entertaining Jack, Eddie and the rest of the gang, by chewing his next bright yellow Jello shot and squishing the sick confection through his teeth. I also gave the kid some more meth in a gelatin capsule as a bit of a speed bump to get him through what was about to follow. Between his own legs, fithyrigshit supped on the kid’s soggy under-shorts and suckled my boy’s shriveled little disco dick. My tweeked out son hardly seemed to notice the former Heisman Trophy Candidate.

When Grandpa Eddie asked Uncle Jack for his bag, I knew what was coming next, so I whispered my plan into Doug’s ear, and we quickly stepped into my bedroom to ad another little surprise treat for my freshly deflowered son. When I returned, I was pleased to see Professor Poison Prick from the park had cum to donate another toxic load to the cause, only now, we didn’t wear his glasses, and he looked too fucking hot in his black leather chaps and MINESHAFT t-shirt. Across the room, Grandpa Eddie sat in the recliner once again, with my son waiting patiently between his legs, holding the old perv’s goodie bag.

Seeing the monster dong Eddie pulled from his pants seemed to ignite the kid’s short-term memory. His hands trembled as My Favorite *edo tied off his bloated cock and balls. No one in the room could hear what he was whispering to his little helper, but the boy retrieved the party hat from where it had been knocked to the floor, and immediately accepted the little blue pacifier the sick old freak told him to suck.

Next to a blood slam, there’s nothing quite as dangerous as a dick slam. One wrong move and Eddie would succeed in doing what the court had mandated 15 years ago. But shooting speed in his dick did the same thing to my uncle’s molester that ramming Trimix or Javarject did for movie stars. Junior’s eyes grew as big as black flying saucers as he watched the old man pierce the vein and inject methamphetamine into his dormant dong.

“Untie Grandpa,” he demanded, “Undo it now,” and my boy quickly fumbled to undo the impromptu truncate that had first looked like a cave man’s cock ring. A small spot of virus ridden blood and meth leaked from his puncture, and as he sank back into his chair, he mumbled, “Lick that up…”

My son complied.

After a few second’s where the old guy looked lost to the world, his massive paws suddenly found the awe struck kid in front of him and began rubbing the boy’s unmarred arms, smooth chest and soft face like our fuck-utility was made of gold. Overwhelmed by his new grandfather’s overpowering attention, my boy rolled onto his back just as Grandpa rolled effortlessly on top of him.

“Ya ready son?” he asked with out looking at me, and I stepped into place, and squatted over the innocent face as my mentor gentle removed the pacifier for the birthday boy’s mouth.

“Ya ready for a very special present from your daddy, baby?” Grandpa mumbled, and my boy nodded.

“Then ask him. Ask him for your special birthday treat….”

“Please Dad. Please Papa, give me my birthday treat…’

“Special birthday treat,” he coached.

“Special birthday treat,” my drugged up little spermbank repeated.

“Kiss your Papa’s shit-chute, Son. Get your tongue up inside your Daddy’s ass….”

Junior’s sweet lips felt warm and wet on my well used butt ring.

“French kiss it, like he’s your prom date,” the old freak urged him.

My new Son’s mouth was too hot to believe, and I needed to clamp down the best I could, trying to restrain myself before giving away the whole Money Shot.

“Open your mouth, Grandbaby, but don’t swallow. We’re all gonna be real mad at you if you swallow before I say so,” and once again, the kid opened up his mouth like a hungry little bird.

I couldn’t hold back. All the swimming, swirling jizz in my guts forced its way out, first in globby drops, but then suddenly in big ugly squirts of chunky super-charged spunk. The five nut loads I collected that day, including the kid’s, now washed out of my rectum and into his welcoming maw.

I swear it was the drugs that were making me bare down and release the sloppy sperm farts into his teenage face. But try as I might, the renegade scumbag I’d picked out of the park toilet remained lodged in my dilated turd canal.

“Get your tongue up in there,” Eddie instructed, “Dig around in your father’s asshole and get that spunk-sack out of there for him.”

The eager little humming birds ravenous lips and prehensile twat-taster sucked and fucked my gaping ass, as I grunted down as hard as I could, offering up Daddy’s sperm saturated prolapse, like so much blood red birthday cake for the starving lad to feast on. Word’s can’t describe the sheer ecstasy of the kid’s ravenous mouth on my distended bowel.

“Don’t swallow, just dig in” his flying grandpa sighed as his fingers began fiddling with the kid’s recently discovered hole, that waited vacant between the filthy old freak’s thighs.

The sensation of my son pulling the second hand rubber out of my intestinal track was almost too much for me to take, and with it came a second explosive splash of warm nut snot and ass juice. I had to stand up just to see the beautiful mess I’d made of my little cum-junkies face.

What a show off he was, and the crowd applauded at the sight of his gaping mouth full to the lips with 5 loads of spermatozoa and copious amounts of anal mucus. Half the deflated condom spilled out of his mouth and over the side of his lips, like the chewed up scumbag was trying desperately to escape so it could impregnate his ear.

The tripping boy lay frozen in the tripping man’s stare. Psychically they were saying disgusting and deranged things to each other silently, that none of the rest of us could hear. Then the old man began dipping the nipple of the pacifier in the whitish brownish gene pool, and began drawing on the kid’s face with warm globs of cock sauce. And though three of the loads may have gone in negative, they had mingled and baked in my HIV rich oven, leaking out as positive has Freddy Mercury.

Grandpa began to use the little cock shaped suck toy to fuck the helpless kid’s nostrils, pulling thick strands of the noxious ball sap over his lip and into his nose. Junior held still, paralyzed in the sick bastard’s hypnotic gaze, his birthday hat looking both out of place and sickeningly perfect at the same time.

Professor Poison Prick said he’d come to the party to shoot his spunk into the kid’s open eyes, but I asked him to hold back. I had a different plan. My son had been so mesmerized my his grandpa’s little game, he hardly noticed the old man’s monstrous blunt cock head knocking at his back door, until there was a grunt and a muffled shriek as the criminal sexual sociopath slammed his fat corona into the boy’s unsuspecting sphincter.

Dropping to his knees, beating off as hard and fast ask he could, the man in black chaps suddenly pushed his spurting corona up to the tender young-thing’s right nostril and begun firing load after load of infectious positive pecker puke into the surprised boy’s booger chute, filling his sinus cavities and then the back of Junior’s throat with more deranged demon seed then any of us could possibly imagine, as his smiling Grandfather held is head in place.

Unable to turn or escape, the shocked youth panicked and swallowed everything, all five loads, plus the used scumbag as the crowd cheered, and his high flying Opa slammed another four fat angry inches of his bleeding bloated death stick up the vulnerable teen’s tight twat. Junior struggled but at the same time didn’t seem too interested in getting away. The meat skewer held him in place like a cum saturated little dick-kabob. As he coughed and choked, beautiful pearly white globs of dick juice slithered out of both the teenager’s nose holes.

Reinserting the pacifier in the kid’s mouth, the boy’s adopted elder began fucking him mercilessly, pounding as hard and deep as his sick dick could reach. What a sight to behold as the kid rolled with it, accepting the bowel bludgeoning with a depraved lust filled hunger that matched his mentor’s.

And just when I thought the night couldn’t get any sicker, the sound of a hard jaw snapping slap caught everyone it the room totally by surprise.

“Get you fucking hands off me you worthless piece of SHIT,” Psycho Mike shouted as fithyrigshit hit the floor. Junior still had four loads to go, but it looked like the psychotic sadist was trying to end the party early by starting a fight.

As luck would have it, the sharp noise startled my son so much that his butt hole clamped tight, bighting into the Gramps’ baby breaker, causing him to roar in pain and pleasure with his sudden ball busting release.

Psycho Mike, the drama queen, was demanding that Doug get his shit-whore away from him, but the boy and his grandpa were once again above it all, for a few last moments bound in the indescribable bliss of intergenerational insemination.

Rediscovering his hand and arms, the boy reach out and held his new granddad tightly, and his embrace was returned to him in the form of a massive bear hug, all the while, the thick bloody dick spewed more and more dank nut-crude into the fuckling’s ever expanding insides.

The diseased old criminal and the beautiful blond fuck-toy, rocked back and forth as if they’d never heard a thing, while I dealt with the dogfight that threatened to derail my boy’s big night.

The whole concept of life as a disposable sex object wasn’t really an organic element of filthyrigshit’s psyche. He wanted drugs. He was there to score enough chemicals so that his feet would never need to touch the ground again. He assumed that because Psycho Mike had been the first one to turn him on, that the guy would share some sort of fondness for his former plaything, which was not how the shallow old queen was wired. The serial pozzer’s greatest wish was to see the things he fucked die, and it pissed him off when they kept coming back expecting something more.

I asked Jack to take the ex-college athlete back into the nursery, tie him up and giving him a nice big slam before shoving a massive dildo, or two into his damaged guts, and I told Psycho Mike that if he didn’t cool his jets right now, he could just walk out the door without his slice of cherry pie.

Even though Doug had just donated a load to my gut-soup birthday treat 20 minutes earlier, he returned from watching the bondage scene in the playroom rock hard and ready for his turn at Junior’s twat. Doug wasn’t a big man, maybe 6 inches at most, but his balls refilled at an amazing rate. I’d seen him shoot 5 loads in two hours one time, so what he lacked in beef, he sure made up for with gravy.

I whispered to Grandpa Ed that it was time to give someone else a turn, and now that his balls had been drained, he was willing to pull out, so the kid’s kunt-holes could realign.

In an attempt to make peace with Mike, I offered him a couple lines in the toilet, which he eagerly accepted, explaining that he was just a little tense, because he’d been tamping back a $200 turd for four days, that a couple in the next town over planned on devouring together the next night. Out of courtesy, I asked if he might let me look at the turtle’s head, which he promptly did, giving me a sick little idea.

Normally, my Raunch Studies students begin slowly, learning to enjoy the sick sport by eating candy bars and tootsie rolls out of my digestive tract, but this kid already proved he was an overachiever. Cramming two rocks into the tip of the shit log, I asked Mike to pull it back in, so the sharp edges of the uncrushed crystal could dig into the inside of his ass-lips and rectal wall for a few minutes.

While Doug pounded the kid’s ass, I asked my son to bend over and get his mouth on Psycho Mikes butthole and give it a nice French kiss. Even though this had not been a lesson I’d planned on introducing the kid to for another couple months, I didn’t want to miss the opportunity. Luckily, the kid’s nose and sinuses were so full of toxic cum, he couldn’t smell what his tongue kept stroking and poking, as bits of shit and meth mixed together in the sweet teen’s drug deadened taste buds.

The pressure to keep the log inside was becoming overwhelming, so after a minute or two of the munch massage, Mike had to stand up and step away. I sent Lenny to go to the playroom to release and retrieve filthyrigshit, so he could pay me back for the slam.

Even as Doug kept dogging the kid, I asked my son if he’d ever heard the football player’s name, and as Junior nodded, I revealed filthyrigshit’s former identity, and the youngster’s dilated eyes grew wide with surprise. Waddling back into the room, the blissed-out straight junkie looked much more at ease as he floated towards us and took his place facing my son as instructed.

“Kiss him,” I ordered, and their lips locked. Though Junior might not have known what kind of filth coated his tongue, the ex college star went nuts as he wildly attempted to devour my fucked up kid’s shit slicked lips. And once again, Junior soared high in pig heaven.

The hetero-horndog slurped and sucked on the boy’s nose without the slightest clue that the tripping teen hadn’t snorted any thing (other than the cock snot that now washing down the back of the straight junkies throat). Next, I told the dumb-jock to drop to his knees and reinflate his number one fan’s shriveled little disco dick.

Doug’s cock tended to jut up to a pretty sharp angle, and so when the kid stood erect, his prostate received a good pummeling for my buddy’s rock hard rod. When it looked like my son was back in full form, I told his football idol to turn around and touch his toes.

It took a little work on my part to get both my son’s cock and balls in the ex-jock fist-friendly fuck canal, but once he was in, I told the point-whore to grip down and not let go until we were done.

Junior moaned and Doug went nuts, thrashing the Birthday-boy’s cum button for all it was worth, and within three minutes, lethal jizz flew out of Doug’s nuts into my son’s buttered bowels, and then, more healthy teen-cream shot from my son into his idol’s damaged and diseased interior. When Doug pulled out, the kid remained lodged deep inside the tight-end, turned wide receiver, and once again, my one and only living offspring made his Papa proud.

With one had on the small of the ex-athletes back, Junior let out a massive sighs of pure and utter relief. Without any instruction or provocation on my part, my son began to piss all over his own balls even as they remained crammed up inside the football player’s overstuffed colon. How many beers we’d poured into the kid, I don’t remember, but more than a six-pack’s worth of urine rushed from his bladder directly into HIS new fuck toy’s belly. Though the junkie hadn’t found any meth hidden in the kid’s nose, his intestines were suddenly flushed with more chem-piss than most guys could handle. And once again, filthyrigshit groaned in ecstasy and coughed, slowly swept away on a wave of overpowering GutRush.

Eventualy I asked if the kid wanted to pull out, but the little fucker just grinned and shook his head “no,’ wallowing in the wonderful sensation of his cock and balls bathing in the warm waters of his own waste and his idol’s tight grip.

Junior didn’t see Bodybuilder Bob (load #16) come limping into the room, but those who didn’t know the 80’s porn sensation personally, stepped back in horror. The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come brought most of the side action to a close, as the other guests who had blown their wads yet remained for the show, quickly zipped up and fled, from the bone chilling sight of the Walking Dead.

Finely commanding my little fuck hound to dislodge so that he could to greet his last guest, I watched Lenny and Karl drag filthyrigshit off to my walk-in shower so they could fuck the piss out of him, and Dough followed so he could watch. That left the boy and me alone with Jack, Eddie, Psycho Mike and the corpse who came for dinner.

I won’t waste any time retelling what was recorded at the beginning of Part 2 other than to say, the first thing my boy did was to kiss Bob on the lips, and wrap his strong young arms around the worn and withered wraith. This kid continued amazed me, doing everything he could to prove to his old man that he was without a doubt FEARLESS.

Psycho Mike was the only one at the party who had not cum by the time Bodybuilder Bob finished passing the plague into my young and unstoppable little viral vacuum, but the sight of the corpse fucking and infecting the healthy teenager combined with those fine white lines, had sick sadist hungry for blood.

Just between you and me, I never really liked Psycho Mike very much. In my opinion he was one of those sorry little faggots who confused being rude with being manly. But we lived in a small town with a very shallow gene pool. He always invited me to his parties, and I was raised to believe that it is always polite to share.

When Junior dropped to his knees and retrieved the filthy cheese clotted skin-slab from Mike’s leather pants, he actually seemed pleased to sniff and suckle on the rank smegma coated dong. I guess growing up with a foreskin that couldn’t retract, the kid had sampled more than his share of home made cottage cheese, and even though he gagged a little here and there (filthrigshit had thoroughly sucked his cum clogged sinuses clean after all), my sweet little freak supped on the feta stuffed schmuck like he was sucking an oyster from a shell. He enjoyed himself so much, Mike actually looked a little pissed off, like he’d failed at his attempt to play ‘gag the fag’.

And when the kid turned and offered up his kunt without reservation or hesitation, the bitter old fairy gave his sweet little butt cheek an unnecessarily sharp and brutal slap.

“Count it off BITCH,” he demanded, causing my startled son to throw me a sideways glance.

“One….” I offered, and then the boy nodded, acknowledging that he understood.

“One.” Junior repeated. SLAP!

“Two.” The kid grunted.

“Do you want my shit?” Mike demanded.

“Yes,” The Kid answered, followed by another equally hard SLAP.

“YES What?” Slap

“Yes sir, Four Sir!”

Slap

“That was only the three,” mean freak began his favorite argument, “That other slap what for not saying my name.” SLAP.

“FIVE SIR.” The kid spit out through clinched teeth.

SLAP

“That was only THREE” SLAP.

Before I could intervene, my boy stood up and turned and stared the mean old faggot straight in the eye and said bubbling with rage “That was SIX, SIR!”

“DID I SAY YOU COULD MOVE?” The Mr. Leatherqueen 1952 raised his hand to slap the kid’s face, but instead found it caught in a grip harder than he could have possibly imagined.

“Not the Face.” MY boy growled, and with no attempt to conceal his contempt, he added “SIR,” before turning around and offering up his ass once again.

Needless to say, I was conflicted. I wasn’t going to let the sorry old queer injure my kid, but at the same time, I was damn curious to see what would happen if the stupid old fart tried pushing the boy any further, and then to top it off, the kid suddenly said very clearly

“I want your shit, SIR, Come on and give me that shit!”

SLAP

“NINE, Thank you SIR”

Oh poor, poor tired Master Mike. The boy was off the script and the unimaginative old faggot wasn’t sure how to recover.

“Gimme me that SHIT Sir, Give it to me Hard” the bent over boy demanded.

Mike stopped spanking and started fucking while he tried to regroup. By starting out slapping the kid as hard as he could, he had no way to build, plus his limp sissy wrist now ached from over exertion. Worse still was the hypnotic effect the kid’s hungry hole had on his mean-spirited meat. The 18 year-old’s tight semen soaked insides felt good, really good. Normally Mike was so obsessed with trying to torture the victim on the end of his dick, he never noticed the beautiful way that a very young punk’s guts could suck and squeeze the man-milk from his shock-prod.

The sound of the little fucker getting his birthday spankings pulled the piss soaked pigs from the toilet where they’d been wallowing. When Psycho Mike inadvertently rested his hand on the kid’s shining red butt-cheek, Junior startled him by suddenly shouting, “TEN!”

Which was followed by a real slap that received an “Eleven” from the kid, and a quickly stifled giggle from those of us the audience. This pushed “Master” Mike over the edge.

SLAP!

“Twelve, Thank You Sir, Gimme Me Your Shit!

SLAP!

“Thirteen, Thank You Sir, Gimme Me Your Shit!

SLAP

“FourTeen, Thank You Sir, Gimme Me Your Shit!

SLAP

“FIFTEEN, Thank You Sir, Gimme Me Your Shit NOW!” The kid suddenly demanded.

SLAP

“SIXTEEN, Thank You Sir, Gimme Me….

“You worthless little turd, you fucked up piece of garbage, You’ll be dead in two weeks” SLAP

“SEVENTEEN. THANK YOU MA’AM, May I have Another?”

“You really think you’ll live as long as that nigger that just fucked you, turd breath? Fuck you! You’ll be dead before that fucking junky retard in the toilet back there” Mike shouted, grabbing a handful of the boy’s blond hair with one hand while bringing down his other brittle withered writs on my impervious little cumbdump’s round rosy rump.

“EIGHTEEN,” My Son shouted before biting down as hard as he could on the prick in his unstoppable poison trap, and that was it. He’d fucked the fucker back, forcing the old queer’s little prick to start spewing his poison uncontrollably in the power bottom’s magic twat.

But before the last shot could leave his gun, Daddy’s Little Man stood up, catching Mike off guard and pushing the tired old top backward, sending plummeting to the floor with a painful thump and grunt.

Earlier, I had thought the kid’s tight body might have been from the swim team, but it turns out my Son was a wrestler. The out of shape faggot was no match for the tweeked-out, outraged teenager. Quickly flipping Psycho Mike onto his belly, the birthday boy grabbed the back of Spankee’s leather pants and gave them a hard and painful yank.

No, this was more than just speed. Clearly, Junior had been mainlining testosterone all day long. Like a roid-ranger at a wrestling match, the kid’s face flushed with fury. Teenagers are by their very nature are already messed up on hormones 24/7, but obviously more than just virus rich jizz had passed into the kid’s bloodstream.

Rather than killing his dick, the beating had filled the boy’s shaft with blood and his balls with rage. It was as if Bodybuilder Bob’s life had escaped from his dying body and taken up residence in my son’s unstoppable soul. And for a split second, I almost felt sorry for the sad sadist suddenly on the receiving end of the most brutal butt ramming of his pitiful wasted life.

“I might eat your shit, but I ain’t gonna take your shit, you worthless piece of hate filled crap,” the kid shouted stabbing old queen in the guts repeatedly. We felt like we should step in and pull the kid off him, but still, watching the forced fucking was like a passing particularly gory car accident, the violence of Junior’s vengeance was mesmerizing.

Before we could intervene, the boy stopped fucking and stood up without cumming. Instead he delivered a hard and unrestrained kick directly in to Master Mike’s shriveled ballsack, causing the pain freak to start puking all over my carpet.

“The only time you’ll see this ass again is when I’m taking a dump on your grave.” Junior shouted before stomping out of the room. “See ya next week,” he yelled, and slammed the bedroom door…… Teenagers.

Giving the kid a few minutes to cool down, we helped clean up the boy’s brutalized piñata, before the shaken old fruit pushed us aside, and left the party muttering curses and threats under his breath.

When I opened the door and stepped into darkened room, the first thing my Son did was apologize, “Sorry I ruined your party.”

Climbing onto the bed beside him, I put my am around his shoulder and assured him that it was his party, and he could fuck who he wanted to.

I don’t know how long we’d been cuddling in silence when, the tattooed Teabo poked his head in the door and asked if he could suck Junior’s dick clean. As the retired athlete demonstrated his appreciation on my boy’s bruised phimosis, I got up to go get the GumGripper2000. After asking Doug if I could use his Evangelical turned *****-Slut to teach my Son how to play hand ball the next night (he eagerly agreed claiming to need a little rest from all the time and effort training the human dartboard), I told Teabag Teebow that if he came back in 20 hours (8pm sharp) with six loads of cum up his butt, I promised to slam him so hard he just might die. He left the kid’s tight foreskin and crotch so damn clean, I would have sworn my boy just stepped out of a bubble bath.

Ten minutes later, after the kid finished pissing down his hero’s throat, my enthusiastic son began fucking himself with the electric toothbrush like it was some sort of enchanted vibrator, ramming and jabbing the 17 loads we’d injected him with into his raw and ruptured rectum. I knew the ravenous little cum collector had made the right choice.

Looking down at his pink, puffy pucker, I pulled out the brush and watched a thin train of pink watery blood mixed with clumps of thick goopy semen wiggle and spill out, reminding me of the first cherry I ever popped. That kunt, I’d knocked up by accident, but this time, it was completely and totally intentional. He’d come to me and asked for this himself. He wanted to be my son, flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone. He wanted to have me inside him forever. This was a birthday present the kid would have for the rest of his life, one he could keep to himself, or share as he saw fit.

Fuck white-water rafting; this was the ultimate Father/ Son bonding experience. Pushing my cock head back into my adopted son’s fertile crevice, I started working on finishing what we started seven hours before, with my dripping dong by planting a third dick wadd of my virile viral seed as deep into his load laden gut as far and as hard I could shoot it. “Okay, Son, here comes Daddy’s choo- choo with big number 18!” I grunted

Some would say a Dad breeding his Boy is an unnatural act, but nature had fucked with us, and now it was our turn to fuck with nature. I myself had learned at a fine tender age that my Papa’s thick pork hose made the world’s perfect butt plug. In my ideal world, every father would know the joy of trying to impregnate his offspring, when they where old enough to conceptually give it up, of course.

Keeping my bursting bladder clamped tight, I resisted the urge to urinate as we enjoyed a brief power nap, my paternal organ lodged deep inside his sweet and skuzzy scum filled interior, trapping a half gallon of warm delicious baby-batter in my offspring’s nut-nursing honey-hole. When his cum hungry kunt started clinching and milking my deranged daddy dick again, I gave him another nut-full to grow on. This kid’s DNA, saturated with my twisted viral strains, was going to change the world. Come what may, I knew without a doubt that this boy, my new son and seminal receptacle, was a survivor.

Happy Birthday, Little Buddy. Today you are a man….

Part Five: Cherry Pop: The Father, The Son and the Holey Whore will appear soon in Str8/ Bi-sex Fiction, but be forewarned: It will contain pussy juice, lost and lots of pussy juice.

[pozpopperpig]

WOW! Damn, that was way HOT! Thanks for another excellent post! Wish my 18th B-Day would have been like that!

[mikey cunt]

Man, my 14th birthday was kinda like that. my dad set the tone for the rest of my life and is my constant inspiration.

[cumaddict71]

wow, man, that is hot! What a birthday party!!!

[johnny3000]

This is the story that just keeps on giving!! Fucking AWESOME man!!!

[Party Cum Hole]

hot.. thanks..

[SpunkJunkyPissHound]

There's more where that came from, gutter gut!

[Party Cum Hole]

cant wait...

[michguy]

hot! can't wait for more

[arseboy]

I can't find parts three or five... did they not get posted?

[MelbChemboi]

yes more please