|
Like Father, Like Son(man/boy), Part Eight
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
[Like father, like son, part 8/9]
The boy's penis flexed, stiffening even further with the
intense flow of adrenaline that now coursed through his veins. He
trembled. The boy's excitement knew no bounds. He swallowed
nervously. His teeth chattered despite his clenched jaws. He was
frightened, awed, overcome, entranced. He reached forward.
John flinched as his son's fingers brushed lightly against his
penis. "Don't Mark," he breathed out.
Mark pulled his hand away as if he had been bitten. John's
lips were suddenly very dry and he licked then. His breathing was
erratic and he gasped, trying to find the air he needed. He shook
his head trying to deny the need inside him. He had conquered his
desire every time since he had been seventeen years old and he had
first touched the small hard penis of a twelve-year-old boy.
Travis! The boy's name had been Travis. He was a new scout and Skip
had placed the young boy, his own nephew, in John's care. That
Wednesday night he had kept Travis and John back and taken them
into the storeroom. The twelve-year-old boy was aggressive in a way
that John had never been, undressing completely after only a nod
from his uncle. Travis openly masturbated in front of the man then
began to tease John. That night John and Travis copulated on the
exercise mats as Skip watched. It was John's last night in the scout
troop, the following week he left to attend college in New England.
John's hand moved slowly towards his son's small penis. As it
neared Mark took his hand away and the rigid shaft seemed to quiver
with anticipation. "Dad,... you're okay, aren't you?" the boy
whispered. John nodded, breathing heavily as his hand touched, then
enclosed the little penis that was being offered to him. Mark
flinched and for an instant tried to pull away. His father's
fingers held his penis lightly, the tips stroking the sensitive
skin where the tiny fat scrotum joined to the boy's legs.
John looked up into his son's eyes hoping that he would find
the same desire that burned inside him. Mark smiled shyly and
nodded his assent and John's hand gently pulled him forward and
around so that Mark stood before him. "You sure, Mark?" he asked
cautiously. Mark nodded again and straddled his father's legs. He
sat down, his firm buttocks against his father's knees and the man
began to caress his genitals slowly. The boy sighed and his eyes
closed as feelings, long suppressed and previously frightening,
surged into his mind and demanded control. he surrendered
willingly, relaxing as the sensations in his penis took over. After
less than a minute Mark was twitching and flexing his penis
hungrily, demanding more, faster, harder. Uncertainly he reached
out and awkwardly enclosed his father's penis. No words passed
between father and son as they masturbated each other.
John erupted. His semen spurted out over his son's hand,
splashed onto the boy's slender thighs and over his genitals and
then dribbled slowly down the throbbing hot length of the man's
penis. Mark sat up quickly, smearing the thick white cream on his
hand away as he wiped it against his bare thigh. Father and son
gazed at each other, each remembering a little boy standing in a
public toilet, his pale body stained with a man's semen. John
sighed in relief and reached down to his pants for a handkerchief
to wipe up the slippery mess that covered both of them.
As he straightened up, Mark came to his feet. He smiled nervously
at his father. "Dad," he whispered, "Are we going to do what Adrian
did with his uncle?" he asked.
John looked at the computer screen before him. His mail had
been answered. Silently he clicked on the new message and read:
Hi John,
If you both want to? Enjoy it while he's still young!
Alex.
Slowly John stood up and pulled his son to him. "Yes Marco. If
that's what you want?" The boy nodded.
********************************************************************
THE END.
This story has been stopped at this point though it is a long way
from being finished. This course of action has been undertaken
following advice from a net-friend and fellow author that I respect.
He observes that it is repetitive of my previous stories, predictable,
and of little interest. In his critique, the story represents
'acceptable pederastic writing'. I hope that this is the case because
it has been my goal all along to present pederasty in a more favorable
light that it usually is given.
This will be the my last story for some time to come. I look forward
to reading the contributions of others who take my place.
LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON. (Final chapter)
Chapter 8.
It took exactly ten seconds for me to fall hopelessly in love
with Mark Gordon. It had taken more than eleven years for the boy
to grow into the perfect beautiful boy that I exchanged the longing
look with. Eleven years before we met each other's eyes and
discovered the 'magnetism' that is 'love at first sight'. In those
ten seconds we shared a silent wonder. Love was ignited and it
blossomed in those few brief seconds as we passed each other. We
both looked back at the same instant. Both of us felt the same tug
at our hearts and we stopped and stood there facing each other,
each embarrassed, hesitating, not willing to break the silence that
held us spell bound. I raised my eyebrows quizzically and smiled
silently. The boy looked back, innocently yet feeling the intensity
of the moment as his adrenaline made his heart pound faster. I
couldn't think of anything to say. It was impossible to understand
why the boy was looking at me the way that he was.
"Hi," he said uncertainly.
I smiled again and hesitated, "Hi yourself." I stepped closer,
just a single pace. The boy turned like a frightened fawn. He was
ready to run. I stopped. "Bye," I whispered. The boy relaxed
slowly. The tension faded visibly so that his muscles were no
longer taut. He met my eyes with his dark eyes. They were sensuous
and large, yet clear and innocent. The feelings were not foreign
to him but they had never been as strong as they were now. He wasn't
scared but he was very nervous. It was as if he existed only for
the moment. His blood pressure surged as his heart pounded in his
ears. He swallowed nervously. I stepped closer, now smiling at him
openly. I wanted to stroke his soft dark curling hair almost more
than I could stand. I wanted to touch the perfect young body and
smell the boy's sweet flesh.
"I'd be careful going up there," I said quietly. I gestured
towards the narrow path that led up the hill and away from the
footpath we were on. When I first saw the boy he had been hesitating
as if he was trying to decide whether he should take the path into
the bushes.
"Uh, Why?" he asked awkwardly. His eyes avoided mine as he
stared down at his feet.
"Because. Up there in the park, at the end of the path...
homosexuals hang out there," I replied.
"So?" the boy asked arrogantly. There was a stubborn streak
in his voice but I could sense that he was afraid. It was
inconceivable that this boy was gay. He was far too young and far
too beautiful.
"It's not somewhere where you should be going," I replied.
"Fuck you," he said under his breath but quite loud enough for
me to hear. Then he added a little louder, "It's none of your
business, anyway."
I shrugged and pretended to be unconcerned. "Please yourself."
He shuffled his feet absently. "How do you know about gays
being in the park anyway?" he asked.
I smiled. "I live 'round here. I'm not blind. It's your first
time here, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but so what?" the boy muttered.
"I bet your parents don't know you're hanging out around
here?" I said gently. The boy was well dressed. No, he was
beautifully dressed. He wore tight, faded-denim jeans and a
brightly colored, striped sweat-shirt. They were expensive
designer-label clothes. There was a small bulge between his slender
tanned legs that was accentuated by the tight cloth. He wore Nike
Airs that were nearly brand new. His dark hair glistened in the
afternoon sun. I knew he wasn't some poor kid who sold his ass for
a few bucks. He certainly wasn't a runaway.
"How do you know?" he asked.
"You look like a real nice kid. You're not the sort of boy
that hangs around the park looking to be picked up by some pervert."
The boy looked at me guiltily. "Yeah! Sure! It's my body so
get lost, man."
"You like ice-cream?" I asked slowly.
He paused. "Huh? Yeah,... I guess," he answered. Memories of
his father's warnings against strangers rang through his head.
After all, he was here for just one reason. Those warnings, however
well intentioned at the time, were meaningless to him now and his
fear vanished. "Yeah!" He smiled slowly. "I like ice-cream. Who
doesn't?" he added with a smile that threatened to become a grin.
"Don't go up the path," I said gently. "It's not worth it. You
don't belong up there."
The boy looked at me angrily. His lips pursed in a
determination. Then his ego collapsed and he trembled as he
whispered "I wasn't gonna go up there, mister."
I smiled at the beautiful boy reassuringly. "You want to get
some ice-cream and talk?"
He nodded slowly as he looked at me thoughtfully. We turned
and walked down the street. Within a hundred yards we had exchanged
first names, within two hundred yards I knew both his age and last
name and he knew mine. By the time we reached the traffic lights
at the corner we were quickly overcoming the strangeness we felt.
I liked Mark and I sensed that he liked me too. There was an
immediate bond between us that threatened to become a close
friendship before too long. Finally, right before we went into the
store the boy stopped and turned. He seemed very nervous. He
breathed out and shuffled his feet awkwardly and blushed slightly.
"You like boys?" he asked quietly. He was very awkward and I
knew that he was scared.
"Huh?" I said with surprise as I looked at the boy. I was
unable to believe my ears.
He grinned shyly. "You know,... do you? You like boys,... for
sex,... don't you?" he whispered, quickly becoming even more
awkward and nervous.
I was dumbfounded. The boy couldn't be more than eleven years
old and he was asking ME if I liked to have sex with boys. I grinned
back at him. "Maybe.... I'd sure like to have sex with this boy,"
I teased. Mark blushed and looked down. "You like men?" I asked
gently.
The boy nodded, "I,.... don't know, Alex. Maybe. I guess so.
I think I do,... kinda," he whispered shamefully. "I have to find
out,... I guess."
I smiled reassuringly, "Well Mark, most boys really don't know
the answer to that question until they're grown up. But I guess
some boys find out at your age. Either way, it's nothing to be
ashamed about."
The boy nodded, "I'd like to,... have sex with you,..." he
whispered nervously.
I grinned at the boy, "We'd both like ice-cream first though?"
I teased.
He nodded and giggled boyishly. He kept giggling as he
playfully opened the door for me to go inside. He wanted chocolate
chip and I joined him. It wasn't my absolute favorite though it was
certainly close to it. I ordered two double-scoops and we sat down
in the old-fashioned, metal-frame chairs facing each other. We
watched each other intently, barely talking. Just our legs touched.
Just enough to feel the other's presence and absorb the joy we both
felt at being so close together. The boy ate slowly. His pink tongue
flicked out as he licked the ice cream sensuously. He radiated an
incredible youthful energy that seemed to draw me in closer to him.
It was magnetic. His sexuality was still latent but it seemed
obscene after our talk outside the store. He was, I realized
quickly, very intelligent. His immature, prepubescent body belied
the quick wit and innocent charm that competed against his
precocious sexual desire. He was a wonderful boy.
When we went outside we stood close together and looked at
each other silently. "You want to come meet my dad, Alex?" he asked
quietly after he had glanced around to see if anyone was within
hearing distance.
I smirked, "Gee dad, hi! This is the guy I want to have sex
with," I teased.
The boy giggled. "Okay! Okay! But he knows I'm gay, all right.
We've talked about it. I know I've got to be careful because I'm a
kid, and Aids, and all that stuff."
I laughed as I reached out and ruffled his dark soft hair
playfully for the first time. Then, as I withdrew my hand quickly,
I realized that it had been the most natural thing in the world for
me to do. Mark didn't seem to mind that I had touched him. He smiled
slightly.It wasn't hard to imagine his perfect body next to me.
I took a deep breath, feeling a wonderful excitement building
inside me. It was a thrilling feeling. My heart rate leaped. I
breathed out slowly as I tried hard to control my racing mind.
"Okay, you're right to be careful. How old are you anyway, Mark?"
The boy looked down at the pavement as he mumbled, "Eleven,...
but I'll be twelve soon."
I smiled, "How soon?"
"Pretty soon" The boy giggled. He found it impossible to lie.
"In six months, okay? So what does my age have to do with it. Does
it mean all that much,, Alex?"
I nearly fell down. The boy was pure unadulterated jail-bait
and I couldn't stop myself. "But what if your dad doesn't like the
idea of a man having sex with his eleven-year-old son, especially
when he's as beautiful as you are Mark." I replied as I gently
placed my arm around his narrow shoulders. My tremble seemed to go
right through me and into the boy. He quivered, just as I did.
The boy shrugged. He tried to appear relaxed. "Maybe! But
don't laugh, okay? What if I,... I love you? I'm old enough to do
stuff you know,... like have intercourse." I must have looked
surprised. The boy smiled shyly, "You know,...fuck,... and all
that, if I want to. Alex, if you wanted to do that stuff with me,...
and you loved me too, then isn't it all right? That's okay then,
isn't it?"
Mark's logic was indisputable, at least in my mind, but deep
inside I knew that I was taking advantage of him. In a strange way,
a way that I had never experienced before, the boy had seduced me.
I wondered whether the boy felt the same intense longing that I
did. Did he love me? The word 'fuck' rang noisily in my mind. It
was obscene coming from his lips. He was too young and too innocent
to know about such things, and yet he did. He was uninhibited in a
way that was both very surprising and incredibly exciting.
I knew that I should have told him that he was still too young
and that there was no way how either of us were going to know how
we really felt about each other after being together for less than
thirty minutes. And yet I knew it was right. It was as if I had
been waiting my entire life for this moment; to be standing on the
sidewalk talking with a beautiful young boy who seemed as enamored
of me as I was of him. Something was awfully wrong somewhere. It
seemed so natural, though in fact it was absolutely unnatural. It
was something that I needed desperately.
I nodded, knowing somehow that the boy and I were hopelessly
in love. This thing had to run its course, the consequences be
dammed. I was old enough to be his father and I loved him with a
passion that was foreign to me.
"We've known each other for,..." I paused as I consulted my
watch. "exactly thirty-five minutes."
"So? What's that go to do with it?" he asked curiously.
I grinned. He was irresistible. "I think it takes time to fall
in love, Mark. That's all."
Mark grinned back at me and shifted his weight so that he
balanced on one foot. With his other foot, he casually scratched
the back of his leg. "Oh!" he said coyly. "So, Alex, how long will
it take?"
"Well,... we have to get to know each other. I'd like to know
everything there is to know about you. So far I know your name is
Mark, you're eleven, going on twelve,... and I like you a lot.
But,...not much else." I answered. I squeezed the small shoulder
playfully. "I want to know all about you."
"That's all there is," Mark smirked cheekily. "There's nothing
else. Except,... except I like you too. A lot."
"I'd still like to spend time with you, first," I laughed.
"I'd like to take you places."
Mark grinned. He shrugged and moved slightly to one side,
pulling me with him. With my arm conveniently around his shoulders,
it was impossible not to move with him. We walked slowly towards
the corner, turned and went a few more feet until we stopped under
a tree. It was considerably more private than standing in the
middle of the footpath. He pulled away slightly so that my hand
rested on his shoulder and turned to face me. Suddenly, I was very
aware of the boy's size. He seemed very slender. The top of his
head was somewhere near my chest.
He looked up at me and smiled. I smiled back at him and looked
deep into his liquid eyes. It was as if I was pulled in by the
darkness of his pupils, seeing the boy inside for the first time.
I could sense his nervousness, the anxiety, the building
excitement, the mystery of the unknown. There was also something
else in those clear, almost black eyes. There was a barely
contained sensuality that bordered on outright sexuality. In the
young boy it seemed particularly obscene, though it was also
intensely arousing. Without even looking down, I knew that my penis
was getting stiff and was now displayed prominently as a growing
bulge in the crotch of my jeans. Mark smiled at me wickedly as he
realized exactly what effect he was having on me. The tip of his
tongue pressed forward between his lips and he licked his lips. We
looked at each other thoughtfully.
"I'd still like to take you places, Mark," I repeated.
"You just took me for ice-cream," he grinned. "So where else
do you want to take me."
"To bed," I teased him. My eyes glanced downward quickly. God,
he was even harder than I was. His penis had stiffened and in the
process of becoming erect it had moved to one side, perhaps
entangled in his underpants. The boy's penis lay in the joint of
leg to abdomen, pointing to the right. The short, rigid shaft was
clearly visible under his clothes. It wasn't very big but it was
obviously very hard because it lifted the cloth upward and outward.
"We can go to your place, if you want, Alex?" he grinned
cheekily. He was surprisingly confident.
I smiled. I wondered how he had become so aggressive at such
an early age. He appeared to be completely at ease with the fact
that he was attracted to me. I was old enough to be his father and
he was doing his very best to seduce me. I had never been seduced
by a boy before. It was at once intensely exciting, frightening,
and absolutely wonderful. But then, I had never had sex with a boy
before. Sure, I had dreamed about it. I had fantasized about it. I
had longed for it. However, it had never happened. At that moment,
having sex with the beautiful dark-haired boy who stood only a foot
away from me seemed very, very close. I knew it would be a lot more
fun than simply 'jerking off' in my bed at night. I also knew I
could go to prison. I wondered how far Mark would go before his
inhibitions caught up with him. I hoped it was a long way.
"You're pretty horny aren't you, Mark?" I teased quietly. "How
come you know so much about sex?"
The boy struggled for moment, then blushed. He looked down at
his feet as he said quietly, "I haven't before,... you know,...
done this stuff with a guy. Except for my best friend, that is, but
he's my age. And we didn't do all that much anyway, just
masturbated,... that's about all." He glanced up at me to see
reaction. I gave him a reassuring smile. "My dad told me a lot,...
you know about the stuff gay guys do together. I know what happens.
Now I want to do it, I guess."
I nodded and wondered about his father. I took a chance. It
was the biggest chance of my entire life. It was a once-in-a-
lifetime chance. "Okay. Mark, I guess so. If that's what you want,
it's okay by me."
Mark paused as his mind raced. He nodded. "It is," the boy
answered quietly. He turned his head, looking absently down the
street. "You live near here?" he added.
"Not far," I replied. "Are you sure you want to?" I asked.
The boy turned back to look up at me again. "I,... think so.
Yeah,... I guess I do. I really want to," he murmured.
We looked at each other. We didn't speak. We wanted each
other. I was forty-two and the boy was eleven, and we wanted to
have sex. We were going to have sex. "Let's go to your place," mark
whispered. With my hand on his shoulder I gently steered him
around, gave him a loving hug and then a playful nudge. We started
to walk.
As we walked down the street all I thought about was the boy.
I thought about the boy in a way that I had never thought about
another person. I knew I was being very selfish. I was taking
advantage of a very confused little boy. Finally I turned to Mark.
"Maybe your place would be better. I think you'd be safer there.
You really shouldn't be going into a strange man's house you know."
The boy grinned, "Alex, but you're not a stranger any more.
And yeah, I'd much rather be at my place."
"What about your parents?" I asked curiously.
"I live with my dad. He's a doctor,... a surgeon,... but he
does a lot of research too. He's never home before six."
I glanced at my watch. It was just after noon. Six wonderful
hours, if I played my cards right. The boy led the way to his house.
The 'ice had been broken'. Mark chattered incessantly and by the
time we reached his house it seemed as though I had known the boy
for a long while. The more he talked, the more I liked him and the
more I discovered the depth of my feelings for him. What I felt
wasn't just lust, it was a lot more than that. It was incredible
and exhilarating, and very, very wonderful.
Mark's house was on a nice street, one of the nicest streets
in the neighborhood. The house was impressive. Three stories with
a slate roof and dormer windows. There were large bay windows with
side windows with glass cut in intricate patterns and held apart
by thin strips of lead. There was a circular turret on the right
side. The house was set back from the street and large oak trees
and maples were scattered over the front lawn. The leaves had
already started to turn color and there were signs of what was to
come. The thick grass was a bright lime green. There was a wide
terrace that stretched the width of the front of the house and a
few flowers still bloomed along the edge. Mark came from a very
rich family.
The boy went to the back of the house, opened the door with a
key that he dragged out from the depths of his pocket, along with
a Swiss Army knife, some nylon string, a couple of quarters, and a
condom. I nearly died. It's not every day that you see an eleven-
year-old boy carrying a condom in the pocket of his jeans. Mark
blushed slightly as he pushed the little cellophane packet back
into his pocket quickly. He glanced at me sideways as he wondered
whether I had seen it. I grinned.
"It looks like you're prepared for anything," I said
innocuously.
Mark's embarrassment grew and he reddened further. He
shrugged, trying hard to appear nonchalant and relaxed. "Yeah! Well
you never know."
I remembered where I had met Mark just an hour earlier. It
seemed like a lot longer. He had been on his way into the park.
Where he was going, homosexuals hung out. I wondered whether he was
going for a rendezvous or merely to satisfy his emerging curiosity.
Either way, he was certainly going there well prepared.
"Your dad gave it to you?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yeah! Like I told you already, he knows. He doesn't want me
to get hurt," the boy said softly.
He opened the door and we went inside. It was an old brick
house with thick walls so that it was very quiet inside. The world
outside seemed to be a long, long way away. We entered through a
recently renovated kitchen. It was full of pleasant smells that
aroused a strong sense of 'home'. The ceilings were high and
sculptured and there was a crystal chandelier in the dining room.
As we came into the front hall the boy turned to me nervously and
stopped.
"You promise you haven't got Aids?" he asked nervously.
I ruffled his hair playfully, "I'd never do anything to hurt
you Mark. You have to trust me," I replied.
The boy nodded, "Promise, we can stop whenever I want,... and
you'll leave if I ask," he asked. Despite his aggressive advances
it was very obvious that the boy was still afraid. His small body
trembled slightly with tension and growing excitement. I wondered
who was doing the seducing, him or me, and then I realized that it
was mutual. We were leading each other forward, taking tentative
steps towards becoming lovers, reinforcing the other's desire as
we relaxed our inhibitions.
"I promise," I answered, "Whenever you want, we can stop.
Okay?" I added.
The boy smiled shyly and turned. I followed him up the
beautifully carved oak stairs. I could tell that he was still
confused. He was anxious and afraid of what lay before him but he
was also very excited. His young body seemed alive with
anticipation. He was ready to discover the mystery of his body and
satisfy the desire that had been within him for as long as he could
remember. He wanted to have sex. It was my lucky day.
Chapter 9. My Lucky Day.
Mark entered his bedroom and for an instant I paused outside
in the hall. I watched as he stopped and turned to look back at me.
Then slowly I stepped through the doorway and closed the door
behind me. We stood facing each other silently.
"You have a nice room, Mark..." I observed, as I looked
around. It was an L shape with a large bay window on one side. There
were a large number of model cars on the window ledge, a comfortable
chair and a couch, books and toys lying on the floor and on shelves.
The walls were decorated with posters of racing cars and their
famous drivers.
|
|
