Perverts 'R' Us

The Wayward Gene-Timmy

By Little Dan ( M/b, gay, pedo, age-play, anal )

Dr. Marco Velho gazed down through the eyepiece of his new digital microscope and again studied the wayward gene he had isolated more than twenty years ago. The 'aging' gene, or the 'non-aging' gene to be more precise. The little devil that caused severe arrested development in young children. The years would move forward, but their minds and bodies would forever lag behind, ceasing to progress any further. They would be toddlers their whole lives, until after the age of fifty when their skins would wrinkle and their hair would turn grey. A peculiar apparition - aged babies and infants.

He stood up from his chair and donned his white coat. Outside in his waiting room was a new family who had heard of his work, and brought their child to him, not that there was much that could be done. The simple truth was that a few people carried the gene latently, and if they married non-carriers there would be no problem. However, in the rare case that two carriers conceived a child, the gene would activate, and the child would therefore be affected.

He opened the door into his waiting room and welcomed the Abbots - Mr. and Mrs. Abbot, along with little blond Timmy.

"Won't you come in," he welcomed them. As they passed him, he tousled little Timmy's hair, and Timmy promptly giggled. To all outward appearances, Timmy seemed to be a normal child of two and a half or three. But this was far from the truth.

Sitting across from Dr. Velho, Bill Abbot studied the doctor. He had heard Dr. Velhol was the world's leading expert on Timmy's bizarre condition. Before him sat a tall, distinguished, wise-looking man in his early fifties, with thick black hair, just starting to go grey at the temples. The doctor folded his hands on the desk and smiled at him. He had perfect white teeth, and a straight well-formed nose. Above his thin upper lip was just the hint of a neatly barbered black and grey moustache which gave him a dapper look.

Dr. Velho on his part studied the Abbot family. The father was a blond, blue-eyed, rugged looking man, who had probably been a high school football hero. It seemed he had married his high school sweetheart who looked as if she might have been the head cheerleader in her teenage years. She also was blond and blue-eyed, and she seemed sweet and cheerful. And there was Timmy, little Timmy, with his big, blue eyes and his thick thatch of yellow hair, wearing a spotless little white outfit - white pullover shirt, white pants, white socks. His parents obviously took very good care of him.

"Say hello to the nice doctor, Timmy," Bill Abbot urged.

"Hello, doctor," Timmy said in his high-pitched voice, reaching out his little hand to take Dr. Velho's large hand and shake it.

"Hello there, Timmy. I'm very happy to meet you." Dr. Velho said, grasping the child's tiny hand.

"Me too," said Timmy.

"Why don't you tell me about Timmy, Mr. Abbot," the doctor urged.

"Well, he's what you see," Bill Abbott said. "A cute little three year old boy. He's been that way for years and years."

"I see," the doctor pondered. "And how old is Timmy?"

"Well tomorrow's his birthday and he'll be of legal age."

"You don't say," said Dr. Velho.

"Yeah. Old enough to vote, not that he ever could."

"Oh, I don't see why he couldn't," Dr. Velho stated. "He probably has more natural intelligence than three quarters of the people who are voting now."

"You don't understand," interjected Sue Abbot. "Timmy has a memory problem."

"In what way?" asked the doctor. This was a new twist.

"He never remembers anything for more than eight hours.

"Yes," Bob Abbot said. "You wake him up in the morning and he has no idea what happened the day before. He remembers his mother and me. He remembers how to brush his teeth, bathe and take care of himself. He remembers how to speak. But events---forget it. Nothing. Yesterday we took him to the circus. Watch." Bill Abbot paused and addressed his son. "Timmy. Do you remember what we did yesterday?"

Timmy thought and thought. "No," he finally answered.

"Don't you remember we went to the circus?"

"What's a circus?" Timmy asked, very interested.

Bill turned his attention back to the doctor. "You see?" he asked. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And he just loved the clowns."

"Interesting," Dr. Velho commented stroking his moustache. "Very interesting."

"Up until the time he was about three years old, everything was fine," Bill Abbot explained. "We thought we had a perfectly normal child. And then time stopped in its tracks for him. He never grew again, he never aged, and even his mind stayed at that three-year old level."

"I guess he's always going to be my precious baby," Sue Abbot said. "Maybe I'm really lucky and just don't know it. I just love babies, and now I've got one for life."

"That's a wonderful way to look at it," said Dr. Velho. "Other parents might have put the little fellow in an institution."

"Oh, how awful," Sue Abbot replied.

"Yeah," said Bill Abbot. "He's our little boy. And we love him. We'll take good care of him till the day we die."

"We've finally come up with a name for this condition. We're calling it Juventudatude," said Velho.

"Jueventudatude?" Bill repeated.

"Yes. It's a Latin derived word for the state of being perpetually very, very young."

"Too bad I didn't get it when I was twenty-one," said Sue. .

"At least now we can go out and raise money to study it," said Doctor Velho. "Maybe someday we'll come up with something and another child will be spared the sorrow of being always a baby. Why don't I take Timmy into my examination room, and have a little look at him."

"Fine," said Bill Abbot.

"You two just sit here, and I'll bring him back in a little while."

"Sure. Timmy, go with the nice doctor, okay?"

"Okay," Timmy happily agreed. He put his little hand in Dr. Velho's big hand and they went into the examination room. Dr. Velho locked the door behind him.

"All right, my little man. Let's get you undressed. Raise your arms." When the boy raised his arms, Dr. Velho lifted the white pullover over his head. "Okay, now the pants." The doctor unbuckled Timmy's small belt and opened two buttons.

The boy's pants dropped to his ankles, and the doctor helped him step out of them. Then he gently lowered the child's little white jockey shorts. "Child?" He laughed to himself. "This child was almost out of his teens."

When Timmy stood there naked, the doctor looked down on him approvingly. What a perfect little body, so very well proportioned, hairless, with Angel-soft skin.

A cute little rear end, and in front a teeny weeny little appendage for making pee pee. Dr. Velho gently lifted Timmy onto the examination table and began by checking his heart and lungs.

"Aaggh," yelled Timmy when the stethoscope touched his chest.

"What's the matter, little guy? Is it cold?"

"Yes. Cold," Timmy answered.

"Well, we'll just blow on it a little to warm it up." He blew hot breath on the instrument as he watched Timmy. Then he put it back on the boy's chest and began to listen. Everything seemed just fine. The pulse was good. The blood pressure was fine. "Okay, just one last thing I want to do."

"What's that?" asked Timmy, smiling up at the doctor.

"I have to take your temperature. Just lie face down on the table,"

"Okay," said Timmy as he lay face down on the table. The doctor went to a little table and took a thermometer, squeezing a little lubrication from a tube on the tip of it, and then he came back to Timmy. He looked down.

"Ye Gads" he thought. "What a gorgeous tiny little ass. So round. So firm. He squeezed a luscious cheek appreciatively with his left hand as he inserted the thermometer into the tiny opening with his other hand. ""What a sweet little hole," he thought, his mouth going a little dry and his eyes glazing. Oh, to examine that a little more closely. But now was not the time. First visit and all, and both parents sitting in his office. After three minutes he removed the skinny glass instrument from the boy's warm rear and read it. He marked the numbers on Timmy's new chart. Then he helped the boy get dressed and they returned to the office where the Abbots were waiting for him.

"Did Dr. Velho examine you?" Bill Abbot asked his son.

"Yes," said Timmy.

"What did he do?"

"I forget," the boy answered.

"That's okay," his father said. "We'll go home now. What do you think, Doctor?" he asked.

"Well, of course, there's nothing we can do for him. But I would like to follow up on Timmy. Reexamine him every two weeks if that would be all right with you. Kind of keep a record."

"Fine," said Bill Abbot.

Dr. Velho looked into his appointment book. "How would Wednesday the twelfth be---say around eleven a.m.?"

"It's up to my wife. She has to bring him. I'll be working."

"That would be fine," Sue said. "It's not like I'm busy picking him up at school or anything." She laughed a little sadly. They said their goodbyes and left, with Dr. Velho giving Timmy a big hug and letting the little man kiss him on the cheek. The Abbots walked to their car, got in and drove off.

"There's nothing he can do." thought Bill. "Well, he had really known that even before they went. His baby was going to be a baby forever. And he loved his baby. He loved his baby so much he really didn't want him to ever change. He was so precious and adorable. He would always be precious and adorable. Bill's teeth ached, wanting to grab Timmy and squeeze him to his chest, planting wet kisses all over his face. But he was driving and had to suppress that urge.

Tomorrow they were having a birthday party for him. The other neighborhood kids were coming over for cake and ice cream. Even little four year old Mandy, his little girlfriend from down the street. And there would be presents, lots of presents for his little guy. There was a special present Bill was dying to give his son. He had been waiting for years. All these years, to show the little guy how much his daddy really loved him. And tomorrow was his birthday. He would be legal. He was coming of age - maybe not physically and mentally, but certainly chronologically. Nobody could be sent to jail for inappropriate behavior. According to the law, tomorrow Timmy would reach the age of consent, and could consent to whatever any disgusting lecher might propose. Absent-mindedly, Bill stroked his cock and noticed that it was erecting. One more day. One more fucking day. Ever since he himself had been a small boy, he had felt the appeal of other small boys. But that was a no-no. You could go to prison for a no-no. So he suppressed all such desires and married a fine woman, and they had had a beautiful little boy. A beautiful little boy who would never change. He would always be beautiful and little. And tomorrow - legal.

Bill smiled happily. And that night after tucking Timmy into bed, he and Sue retired. But there was no sex. Bill just couldn't contemplate sex with Sue tonight. Not when tomorrow he might possibly be playing around with Timmy! He was so excited he had trouble falling asleep.

After he saw that Sue was totally unconscious, stealthily he moved his hand down to his large turgid member and gently began stroking it, thinking of fine blond hair, and a firm little rear end, and his boy's sweet mouth. "Ugh, ugh," he tried to be as quiet as possible as the seed gushed out of his pecker, sliming the clean white sheets. Tomorrow Sue would wonder about the stiff patches on the linen, and he would tell her he had had a wet dream. First one since he was a teenager.

The next day, while Timmy played on the floor with his blocks, Bill and Sue decorated the house for the three o'clock party, they put out party hats, and snappers, and balloons. They set the table for the sweet goodies, and they hung a 'pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey' game on the living room wall.

Around three o'clock, all the others kids showed up. "Happy birthday, Timmy, happy birthday." Mandy gave Timmy a big kiss on the cheek as she handed him a present. Then she looked up at her father, Hank Casey, the hunky twenty-five year old dad who had brought her. He reached down and ruffled her hair affectionately.

Bill came over and shook hands with Hank. He offered Hank a drink, something a little stronger than the Coca Cola the kids were going to have.

He and Hank went into the dining room where Bill poured him a glass of scotch.

"So how old is Timmy today?" asked Hank.

Bill told him.

"Yeah. Sure," Hank laughed.

"No. It's true," Bill protested. "I'm not kidding you. Today Timmy is legally an adult. He has this medical condition called Juventudatude."

"Juventudatude? I never heard of it."

"Yeah. It's a rare disorder. It's genetic. He's always gonna look and act three years old. Even when he's as old as I am now."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I'm not. He'll look and act like this for most of his life."

"Wow," said Hank. "I had no idea."

"But just forget what I told you," Bill said. "In his heart and mind he's just a little boy, and that's how we're always gonna treat him."

The party went off smoothly, and Timmy actually got closest of anybody to pinning the tail on the donkey. He was just a half inch off the donkey's rear end. Everybody cheered. After the guests left, Sue washed the dishes, as Bill took down the decorations. Then Bill sat down on the living room floor and began to roll marbles with Timmy.

Around nine o'clock Sue said she was tired and went to bed. "I'm not sleepy yet, hon," Bill said. You go to bed. I'll stay up a while, and I'll put Timmy to bed." Sue smiled and climbed the stairs to their bedroom.

"Come on, little guy," Bill said to Timmy. "It's time to go upstairs and get ready for bed. Okay?"

"Okay, daddy," the boy answered and took his hand. They went up the staircase and down the hall to Timmy's small bedroom. Gently Bill stood the tiny child in front of him and began removing his garments. The shoes, the socks, now the shirt, pants, and finally his underpants.

"Where's my jammies?" Timmy asked his father.

"I'll get them in a moment. Meanwhile come over on the bed here and sit in daddy's lap." He patted the location. Timmy approached the bed, and Bill lifted him easily onto his lap. He put his hand under Timmy's bottom as he was lifting the boy, and almost broke into a cold sweat. What a perfect little rear. Round, firm, like two beautiful bubbles side by side. And the boy's whole ass almost fit exactly into his big palm.

He sat the boy down on his lap with his arms tightly around the boy's body, pressing him to his chest. The kid was so delicious he could have eaten him up. Of course, he wasn't really a kid any more, but given the circumstances it was hard not to think of him as a kid.

"Daddy, you're so strong," Timmy breathed, luxuriating in the gigantity and warmth of his daddy's body.

"I have to be strong to take care of my baby boy," he answered. "Come on, let's play a little game."

"A game?" Timmy asked. "What kind of a game?"

Bill lifted Timmy's small foot and grabbed his big toe. "What's this?" he asked.

"My toe," Timmy giggled.

"And what's this?"

"My next toe." He was laughing now. Daddy was tickling his foot.

"That's right," Bill said proudly. His little boy was so smart. "Now we're gonna play 'this little piggy'."

"'This little piggy'?"

"Right. You remember." The kid didn't remember, but so what? He took the boy's big toe and worked down his foot till he got to the littlest toe. "This little piggy went to market. This little piggy stayed home. This little piggy had roast beef. This little piggy had none, and the last little piggy, the littlest little piggy," he tickled the boy's littlest toe, "This little piggy went wee, wee, wee, wee, all the way home." And his tickling fingers ran all the way up the boy's leg - all the way up. Timmy was laughing and laughing. This game was so much fun.

"And what's this here?" Bill asked rolling the little finger of flesh in his fingers. "Is this another little toe? Is this another little piggy?"

The boy laughed. His daddy was so silly. "Daddy, that's my pee-pee."

"Is that what it is?" Bill joked. "Such a cute little pee-pee." He kept rolling it in his fingers. The boy wasn't getting hard. "Must be another effect of Juventudatude," thought Bill. But Timmy was enjoying it anyway. He was gazing into his father's eyes with adoration. He really loved his daddy. He loved his mommy too, of course, but he really, really loved his daddy - the very most.

Bill couldn't restrain himself any longer. He lowered his tongue to the boy's body and began licking the fragrant skin, his arms, legs, chest, and pee-pee.

Then he turned the boy around and licked his back, and then down to his firm little butt. He let his tongue wander between the two cheeks and lapped between the sweet bubbles. Timmy laughed delightedly.

"That tickles, daddy," he said. "Silly daddy." Bill's tongue strayed down and soon he was mouthing the little set of testicles, he wanted to swallow them whole- they were so succulent. The little boy's face was getting flushed and he started making little noises of delight. He threw his arm around his daddy's neck. "Oh, daddy." He moaned.

"You like that, Timmy? You like what daddy's doing to you?"

"Yes, daddy," the boy breathed hoarsely.

"I'll tell you a little secret. You wanna hear a secret?"

"Yes, daddy," he said eagerly.

"Daddy has a pee-pee too."

"You do?" the boy asked.

"Yes I do? Would you like to see it?"

"Yes, daddy," he answered. "Let me see it."

"No. You have to say please."

"Okay. Please, daddy, let me see your pee-pee."

Bill maneuvered the boy so he could open his pants and pull down the zipper. He reached into his boxers and extracted his large, stiff penis, now displaying it before the amazed little guy.

"Daddy! It's so big!"

Yes. Daddy's a big boy. He has a big pee-pee."

Can I touch it, daddy?"

"Of course you can, baby." He put his hand on Bill's thick rod. He was filled with wonderment. "It's so hard, daddy. Why is it so hard?"

"Because it's excited, baby. Daddy's pee-pee is excited that you're holding it. Daddy's pee-pee is so happy. Are you happy that daddy's pee-pee is happy?"

"Yes, Daddy, I'm very happy." Timmy smiled up at him.

"You can make daddy's pee-pee even happier, Timmy?"

"How?"

"Remember just now when daddy licked your pee-pee?" The boy nodded solemnly.

"Well, if you would lick daddy's pee-pee it would be so happy. Would you do that for daddy's pee-pee?" The boy nodded again, and lowered his dear little face so that his lips were touching Bill's big prick. Then his tongue appeared and he began washing Bill's dick with it.

"Oh, baby. That feels sooo goood. You're making daddy's pee-pee sooo happy."

Timmy was delighted he was doing such a good job. He would do anything to make daddy's pee-pee happy.

"Put your mouth over the end of it, honey." The boy tried to follow instructions, but the pee-pee was so big and his mouth was so small. "That's it. Get the tip in and lick it with your tongue. Oh, that feels so nice." His hand reached down and his fingers soothingly began to stroke little Timmy's bottom hole. "That's it, honey. You can get a little more in now. Nice and slow. Nice and slow. There. That's it. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Uh-uh," Timmy mouthed around his cock.

"What a good boy. What a very good boy. Now, lie down on the bed here. Daddy's gonna just go get something. I'll be right back." He quickly tiptoed to the bathroom and found a tube of lubricant in the medicine chest, and then hurried back to Timmy's bedroom. The boy was lying obediently on the bed waiting for him. He undressed himself, and sat down at the edge of the bed. Now he began to apply the lube to the boy's ass. He was anointing the little hole with sacred oil.

Timmy lay there, passively accepting his daddy's finger strokes, liking his daddy's finger strokes. He spread his legs a little so that daddy could get in deeper. And daddy did. The finger was now spreading the tiny opening, massaging it, opening it, massaging it, and opening it.

"You know what, Timmy. Daddy's a little tired. He's gonna lie down on the bed next to you. I'll take off all my clothes, just like you. So they won't get crushed."

Timmy liked seeing his daddy's big naked body. He didn't think he had ever seen it before - Daddy's big strong hairy arms and legs, and his big warm furry chest, and his powerful smooth behind. Daddy was very handsome. And his big pee-pee was so hard and stiff in front of him. He almost looked funny.

Now daddy was lying down behind his back, and Timmy could feel the big pee-pee pressing into his sit-down place. He liked the feeling, the warmth and hardness of it. And even though he was too little to get an erection, he was getting excited. Daddy spread some of the tube stuff on his pee-pee and moved it between Timmy's back cheeks. His daddy was rocking him gently back and forth now, kind of spinning him on the end of the big stick. Daddy pressed and pressed. Then he took it out and put on more tube stuff, then he put it back, and little by little it was going in. Going into Timmy's virgin behind. "Oh, my daddy is making me feel so good," Timmy thought.

Bill spent the better part of two hours opening his son up, slowly and carefully, so if he ever remembered anything, he would always remember this as a beautiful experience, not one of pain. Finally he worked the whole thing in. He didn't see how such a big penis could ever fit inside such a small body (the penis was probably one quarter of Timmy's whole size) - but in it went and in it was. Bill began working his rod back and forth in Timmy's passage. It was soooo tight, so incredibly warm and tight. "This must be heaven," he thought.

"Does it feel good, Timmy?"

"Yes, Daddy. It feels so good. Don't stop. Please don't stop"

Bill tried to oblige the boy, but it was such a hot scene, the culmination of years of wild fantasy, and it felt so incredible that soon he felt the hot scum boiling in his balls, getting ready to explode inside the little man. And then it came. Blast. Blast. Blast. "RRRAAARRR," he screamed as softly as he could, not wanting to wake Sue. Heaven forbid that he would wake Sue. The boy felt the hot liquid gushing up his insides. What a nice feeling.

"Did you pee, daddy?"

"No, baby, that wasn't pee. That was daddy's love juice. Daddy's juice means Daddy loves his little guy."

"Oh. I'm happy, daddy. I like feeling your juice. Can I have some more?"

"Daddy is tired, baby. He has to get to sleep and so do you. He helped Timmy into his pajamas and tucked him under the covers. "Nighty-night, sweetheart. See you in the morning. Daddy will try to give you some more love juice tomorrow, honey. Just be patient." He patted the child on his curly blond head, and kissed his cheek. Then he turned out the light, closed the door and tiptoed down the hall to his own bed and his sleeping wife.

The next night Sue went out to play some Bridge with the girls. Bill did not waste the opportunity to give his boy some more love juice. They did it in Timmy's room again with both of them naked. The only different thing was that tonight he didn't get behind the boy. He stayed in front and raised the little legs high until Timmy's bottom touched his hard prick, and then he very slowly fed it in again. It was so much easier tonight. It didn't take nearly as long to get all inside the kid. The boy looked into his daddy's deep brown eyes, and reached his arms down around his daddy's thighs to help him stay on top. If Timmy could have remembered the previous night, he would have known that the feeling was just as wonderful this way as the other way.

Daddy was moving in and out, in and out and his pee-pee was massaging Timmy's hungry bottom hole. And just when it was getting fantastic, the pee-pee got very wide inside him, and the love juice came out again. The hot, soothing love juice was coating his insides. He vaguely remembered that the hot liquid was love juice, though he didn't know how he knew that. But who cared? Could anything else ever be this wonderful?

On Wednesday the twelfth, Susan drove Timmy over to Doctor Velho's for Timmy's examination.

"Oh, here's my little Timmy," the tall good-looking doctor said when he came out into the waiting room. He said to Susan," I'm going to want to spend a little time with Timmy today. Do you have any shopping you'd like to do?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact I would like to get over to the stores. But I might not be able to pick him up for two or three hours."

"That's fine," said Dr. Velho. "Timmy and I have a lot of getting acquainted to do. You just take your time. I'll take care of Timmy." When Susan left, Dr. Velho took Timmy into the examination room and locked the door. "Now you take off your clothes, Timmy. The Doctor is going to examine you. Do you remember when the Doctor examined you two weeks ago?"

Timmy searched his memory trying to recall, but there was nothing. "No," he said.

"That's all right. You don't have to remember. I'll just examine you." When Timmy was naked, Doctor Velho lifted him onto the table and, after blowing on the stethoscope, he listened to his heart and lungs. Then he took his blood pressure. He weighed and measured the boy, marking everything down. Then he said, "Turn over on your tummy, Timmy. I'm going to take your temperature now." The boy lay on the table, bum-bum up. The doctor greased the thermometer and slipped it in. After the thermometer came out, the doctor's finger went in. It was moving around top to bottom, right to left, in and out. "How does that feel, Timmy?" he asked.

"Okay," the boy answered.

He kept moving first his finger, and then his fingers in there for a long time. "You know, Timmy," he said. "The glass thermometer isn't very accurate. I think we need something better to take your temperature with."

"What's that?" Timmy asked innocently.

"Well I have my own personal thermometer on my very own body. I can use that. Okay?"

"Okay," Timmy answered. The doctor gave a sigh of relief. This was going to be even easier than he had anticipated. "You don't mind that the doctor has to get naked to take your temperature, do you?"

"No," said Timmy.

"Oh, darn it. Doctor's thermometer isn't hard enough yet to go inside your little behind." He came to the side of the table so that Timmy's mouth was near his big, thick, floppy warm penis. He moved the boy's face till his tool was against Timmy's cheek. "Doctor needs you to put the big thermometer in your mouth and suck on it. That way it'll get nice and hard, the way we need it."

Timmy lifted his face and let the doctor guide his mouth onto the big soft lump, which was now becoming a very large, thick stick. Timmy sucked and sucked, feeling it get very stiff in his gaping jaw. The Doctor was moaning, as he thrust it in and out. "That's it, son. Suck that big thermometer." After about fifteen minutes the Doctor withdrew the thermometer. The oral reading had not been good enough, so the Doctor decided to get a more accurate, rectal reading.

He turned Timmy back over on his tummy, and climbed on the table, looming directly over the boy. He spread some of the grease all over the big thermometer, and started feeding it into the boy's hole. It was going in so easily. Too easily. "Someone's beaten me to the punch," the Doctor thought, and sighed in resignation. He had really wanted a virgin asshole, but still this was awfully nice. He worked his cock in and out of the small body under his own on the examination table. He flexed his ass cheeks, as he worked his medical instrument inside the aperture. It was really tight enough. Any tighter might have been too much. Anything tighter would have choked off the blood supply flooding into his ten-incher. No. This was a perfect poke, definitely a perfect poke.

He plowed mercilessly into Timmy, who didn't remember ever having done this before, even though his daddy had been plugging him every day for the last two weeks. But it felt very good. Doctor Velho was a really good doctor. His treatment was just what Timmy needed. He didn't want it ever to stop. Unfortunately after an hour, the doctor just couldn't hold off any longer and he shot his big wad way down inside Timmy's rectum. After catching his breath, the doctor got them both cleaned and dressed and had half an hour to spare before Sue got back. He was forced to read the child 'Little Red Riding Hood' to keep him amused.

Sue really wanted some time to herself to try on the new dresses she had bought, so she sent Timmy outside to play. Timmy happily ran down the street to Mandy's house. He remembered where that was.

When he got there, he rang the bell. Mandy opened the door and let him in. She put her finger to her mouth and said, "Sshh. My daddy's sleeping. He worked very late last night, so he's sleeping today. My mommy told me I had to be quiet before she went to work."

They went into the living room, and Mandy showed Timmy how to play house. He was the daddy, and she was the mommy and the big doll with the red hair that made sissy was the baby. They played for a half hour, and just when Mandy was trying to decide whether or not she was going to divorce Timmy, Hank Casey walked into the living room. "Who's here?" he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Oh, it's Timmy." He ran his hands through the boy's thick blond hair. "How ya doing, champ?" he asked.

"Fine," Timmy said.

Hank beamed fondly on the boy. "What a nice kid," he thought. And then he remembered Timmy wasn't really a kid. He was as old as an adult even though he wasn't quite an adult. But in this state and country, he was legally considered to be an adult. Hank mulled over this interesting thought. He had always enjoyed looking at younger citizens, but never dared go beyond that. Now here was a little boy was wasn't a little boy. What an interesting conundrum.

If he fucked the kid, as he was thinking of doing, he might be morally on shaky ground, but legally his ground would be as solid as the Rock of Gibraltar. He could fuck this little kid's ass and the authorities couldn't touch him. Age -wise the kid was a grown-up. The more he thought about fucking Timmy the more he wanted to.

"Mandy. You go out in the street and play awhile. Daddy and Timmy want to have a little talk, man to man. Right, Timmy?" he fluffed the kid's hair again.

"Right," said Timmy happily. "Man to man."

"I'll see you later, Timmy," Mandy said sadly as she went out the front door. She had really enjoyed playing house and wanted to continue.

When she had gone, Hank walked over and locked the door. Just to be safe.

"Come on, Timmy," he said "Let's go up to the bedroom." He and Timmy got up on the bed, and he put his arm around Timmy as he told him the story of 'Goldilocks and the Three Bears'. As he was storytelling, he let his hand wander down into Timmy's pants.

He began stroking the kid's little soft penis, which wasn't getting any harder. Maybe he wasn't digging it. Or maybe he just didn't get hard. Hank continued, and as he raised Timmy onto his lap he let his hand wander over Timmy's backside. He felt the hot hard bubbles of the kid's ass cheeks, and then his finger strayed between, and touched the little hole, and damned if it didn't slip right in all the way. And it was wet in there. Wet and slimy. Hank began to finger the hole. "Timmy," he asked. "Did someone put something in your behind?"

"The doctor took my temperature," he remembered. It had just been a little while ago.

"I see. And what kind of thermometer did the doctor use?"

"It was his own thermometer." Timmy frowned trying to puzzle it out. "I think it was his pee-pee."

"You don't say," Hank nodded and smiled. "Well a pee-pee is certainly the best way to take someone's temperature. Would you like me to check it for you again?"

"Okay," said Timmy happily. He liked having his temperature taken.

"Get undressed, Timmy," Mr. Casey said beginning to strip off his own pajamas. Soon, the two of them were naked on the bed. Hank folded Timmy in his arms and began deep kissing him, sticking his thick tongue into Timmy's mouth. Timmy sucked on the man's tongue. He liked it. Then Mandy's father crawled higher on the bed, standing on his knees and raised Timmy's mouth to his stiff cock.

"Suck on that, Timmy. That's a big cherry lollipop. Oh, yeah. That's it, kid. You really know how to make a guy feel good. Suck it. No teeth now." He pulled the kid's head down on his dick until it hit the very back of the kid's throat. But he didn't want to cum just yet. He worked his cock in and out of the kid's mouth, and then withdrew it, seeing strings of saliva falling from his lolly.

"Okay, Timmy. Now I'm gonna fuck you. Do you know what a fuck is?"

"No. What is it?"

"It's a rude word for taking your temperature." He turned the boy over and plunged into the slick hole, without any further lubrication. Since this was his second time today, Timmy was getting the hang of it. He started working his little ass up and down milking the big cock that was violating him. He squeezed his little rectal muscles around the flesh tube as hard as he could, trying to squeeze the hot liquid out of the tube and into his ass. He remembered the doctor's hot juice fondly and wanted more.

Hank was delirious with joy. The kid was a real pro. A thousand dollar hooker couldn't have done such a good job on his prick. He fucked as Timmy's little behind hungrily sucked at him. He fucked and felt the juices rising. "Ooohhh, Oooooooohhhhh, Ooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. AAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH," he screamed as the hot milk shot down his itchy tube into the narrow squeezing asshole beneath him. "What a cum! What a great cum!" He thought. His face was sweating from the totality of the experience.

He grabbed his pajama bottoms and wiped his forehead before putting them back on. Then he helped Timmy get dressed before unlocking the door and sending the boy out into the street to play with Mandy. He went back upstairs, whistling. He felt really great. No more headache. No more tension. Thank god for Juventudatude.

When Timmy was finished playing, he went home. Mommy was in the kitchen making dinner, and just then he heard daddy's car in the driveway. His beloved daddy was coming home from work. After dinner mommy did the dishes quickly because she had another Bridge game, and Timmy was left at home with just his wonderful daddy.

Bill led the boy upstairs to resume their adventures. He undressed the boy, then himself and they lay down on the bed together. Bill's hands lovingly strayed over his precious angel's body. When he got to Timmy's asshole, his finger plunged in without him hardly even pressing. And it was wet in there. Wet and slimy.

"Timmy," Bill asked cautiously. "Did anybody put anything in your behind today?"

"Well first the Doctor took my temperature," he happily related. "I think he took it with his pee-pee thermometer. And then," he struggled to remember. "Oh yeah, and then Mr. Casey took my temperature again with his pee-pee."

Bill sat for a moment, trying to process this information. "When they took your temperature, did you like it?"

"Oh, yes, daddy. I loved it."

"Would you like me to take your temperature with my thermometer?"

"Oh, please, daddy, please, please." The boy was practically jumping up and down on the bed in anticipation, so of course, Bill took his temperature. And the temperature was rising as the thermometer was rising and falling. Bill was thinking how nice it would be for the little guy to have three hot thermometers one after the other - the Doctor's, Hank's, and his own big monster. It would be fun seeing little Timmy getting this much needed treatment from two other handsome big guys. Maybe they'd all fool around together in a free for all. That sounded exciting. His hips rose and fell, slamming against the clasping bubbles, as his mind coped with the problem of arranging a grand medical convention. Yes. Between the three of them, they could blast a lot of medicine into his angel's luscious behind.

Clearly his precious angel loved getting dicked - more than anything else in the world. And Bill decided there and then to spend the rest of his days making sure the little guy would get the biggest and best dicks in the world, as often as possible, from this day forward.