Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 WHO'S THE IDIOT NOW?
   By DannyR (MM/t/b, oral, anal, incest, extreme pedo) Copyright 2012. 
All rights reserved.
   Author's Reminder: Don't forget that inquiring authors want to know --
what did you think?  So when you're done, put your fingers to a dried-off,
cleaned-up keyboard and start by typing: dr_harris_81@hotmail.com.
   DISCLAIMER: Some folks apparently have trouble distinguishing between
fantasy and reality.  This story is a fantasy.  It didn't happen.  Never
will.  And anyone who attempts to do in real life all or any of the things
depicted in the story needs to be hanged, then drawn and quartered, and
then turned over to the cops for the harshest penalties the law allows. 
After that, well, hopefully everything Law and Order and the news say is
true about child molesters in prison, is really true.  Now that we're clear
on what's what, and what's not, read on.
Special Note: One of my readers wrote me a while back with a fantasy
about baby-sitting his best friend's three year old boy, playing with his
body and his little dickie.  Anything else about the fantasy would be a
spoiler.  So I put my own spin on it, and here it is.  Sorry it took so
long to get done, though!
   WHO'S THE IDIOT NOW?
   My best friend is an idiot.  I say this with love and respect, but
Christ on a fucking crutch, he's a fucking idiot!
   We've been friends since my family moved into the same neighborhood as
his.  A couple of houses down.  His folks came down with Anne's famous
(though I didn't know it then) made from scratch apple pie, still warm from
the oven, to say welcome, dragging Frank with them.  I don't recall what it
was he wanted to be doing instead of meeting the dumb new neighbors with
the dumb new kid, but we hit it off instantly.
   Not.
   I was an only child who hadn't wanted to move at all, and was determined
my parents would pay for their audacity by not enjoying anything about our
new home, new neighborhood, new school.  I wasn't planning on enjoying
anything at all ever again.  Especially not this skinny blond boy who was
looking equally sullenly at me.  Our glares and pouts were at the stage
that was barely, just barely, short of getting an angry parental shake and
instruction to "Behave!" The "you little brat" would have been implied in
the tone.
   Talking over our heads, the adults were getting all chummy, planning out
the lives of Frankie and Johnny, best friends forever.  Then my dad made it
even worse.  He told them my sixth birthday was September 7th, the next
Saturday, and maybe there were some other children in the neighborhood,
besides young Frank here of course, who might like to come to a birthday
for John.  Or perhaps some of Frank's friends from school, since I'd be
going to Hurst Elementary, too.
   Then it was his dad's turn to go from worse to just plain rotten.  It
turned out Frank's sixth birthday was September 8th.  How about having a
joint birthday party.
   "No!" is what came out of both our mouths, at precisely the same
instant.
   Then while I was rushing on to say, "Saturday is my birthday, not his,"
Frank was rushing on to say, "Sunday is my birthday, not his."
   That was the beginning of tilting off the precipice of dislike and
falling into friendship.  But first we had to get away from the other
precipice, the one we were both teetering on, the one where one or both of
us got shaken, reprimanded or spanked, maybe even all three, for being such
selfish little pricks and basically demanding our own individual parties.
   Frank's mom got on a big white charger and saved the day.  With dad
hands itching for some boy bottom to spank, and my mom leaning toward "Have
at it, hon," Anne said, "You know, that might be kind of fun.  Why don't
you all come over Saturday about one, and we'll have a birthday party for
John at our place?  Nothing real big, just us."
   I could hear the smile in mom's voice as she said, "Anne, how wonderful.
And you all could come over here on Sunday, say, after church?  We're going
to be attending First Methodist, and I think the service is over at noon,
so one o'clock?"
   They went to the same church as us, so all that was fine.  Handshakes
(dads) and hugs (moms) all around and the world was a better place.  With
two little boys who were still semi-glaring at each other, but with a kind
of smug smile behind the glare.  We were each getting our own birthday
party, even if we did have to share it with the other one.  Just as long as
it wasn't a single shared party.  For some reason that had been important
to us.
   And thus began the two birthday tradition.  Frank would host my birthday
party on the 7th, and I would host his on the 8th.  We wound up with pretty
much the same group of friends, who were more than happy to go to two
birthday parties on back-to-back days, since it didn't cost them any more
(they still had to get a gift for each of us).
   We did everything together, including the usual boys discovering their
dicks stuff.  Jacking ourselves off to dry cums, then watching each other
jack off, and finally playing with each other's dicks.  By the time I was
nine I knew I liked boys and not girls, but I didn't tell Frank until I was
thirteen that when we were looking at his dad's porn (the real stuff,
actual fucking and sucking, not Playboy naked women posing) I was looking
at the dicks and wishing that was me.  Frank, of course, was looking at the
women's tits and cunts and wishing he was the one getting sucked, or
plowing his dick into her holes.  But it didn't shake him up or make him
mad when he learned about me.
   If this was a story, instead of real life, I'd have become his suck
slut, giving him such great head and ass that I'd finally seduce him to the
dark side...into faggothood.  Didn't happen.  I did manage to persuade him,
though, that the first time I sucked dick should be his, and the first time
I got fucked should be with his prick.  He was reluctant, but finally
agreed.  I think I may have helped that decision with pointing out that
he'd have some experience that way, before he got into a girl's panties. 
It was also understood that it was just the one time.
   Which was fine with me.  Yeah, I was queer.  Yeah, a breeze would get my
dick stiff at that age, but so did seeing all the boys at school showering,
the naked men and boys at the Y, the dicks I saw whenever I went to a
toilet to piss.  So while I was briefly in lust with Frank, learning to
suck and get fucked, and obviously, I was not going to learn how to fuck
another boy with him, it wasn't an obsession.  I gave him a reasonably good
blowjob and swallowed his cum because it never occurred to me to do
otherwise.  And a week or so later, with a bit of pain, I got fucked.  It
didn't last very long but he was nice enough to stay inside me after he'd
cum so I could jack and get myself off.
   So that was that.  I went on to other boys and definitely men, far more
of each, I think, than Frank ever knew.  Not that we compared conquests. 
Okay, sometimes, but not often.  And I had more opportunity since he was
interested in girls our age, maybe a bit older, but women the age of our
mothers?  Older?  Eeeewwww!  Me?  Fuck, if the guy had a dick, was
reasonably attractive (and my standards weren't all that high) and got
hard, I didn't care if he was my age or my grandfather's age.
   I quickly learned about cruising, after getting sucked off by my first
pedo in a park toilet.  John, maybe his real name, maybe not, had a thing
for young boys.  Fourteen, with a start of pubes, and a changing voice was
fine for fifty-eight year old John.  But he craved younger boys.  Which I
found out when he started fantasizing out loud one afternoon while I was
down on my knees in the bushes, sucking him.  Calling me "baby boy," and
talking about how hot it was to have a little boy with a bare cock and
balls, sucking him, letting him fuck my tight, tiny boy bottom.
   I was so fucking turned on by the fantasy that I spurted all over the
slacks and boxers that were around his ankles at the same time as he was
cumming down my throat.  Turned on by both parts of the fantasy.  By being
the little boy getting used by an adult, but as much, if not more, the
other fantasy: having my teen dick inside a young boy's mouth, or better
yet, his cunt.
   When I sat back on my haunches and looked up at him, he was flushed and
embarrassed, not by fucking my mouth, hell, he'd done that often enough
already, but by how he'd gotten carried away and what he'd revealed.  I had
a sense that if I didn't make it right my most regular dick would be gone.
   We were alone in the bushes; we could hear if anyone was coming, but I
spoke softly anyway, as I spread the last few drops of cum leaking out
around the knob down my shaft and started jacking again.  My jeans and
jockeys were at my ankles, too, and I spread my knees a little so he could
look down at my new hardon.
   "Jesus, John, that was so fucking hot!"
   "Wh...what?" Heart attack time, just about, from the expression on his
face.
   "You know.  Me being a real little boy, all bare and smooth, little
dick, balls up tight, playing with my stiffie while I sucked your big daddy
dick, cumming dry and hard when you spewed in my mouth."
   I had no fucking idea where those words were coming from.  I certainly
never had the hots for my dad or Frank's.  No man played with my boy prick
when I was four or five or whatever.  But damn that idea made me horny. 
I'd never heard of role playing but I was a goddamned natural.
   Then I had a great idea.  I offered to shave my pubes, not that there
were all that many, so I could be a smooth little boy for him.  His stiff
cock liked that idea, and he kind of moaned as he watched me jacking and
did the same.  "But...your friends, hell, your folks, what if they....."
   "I'm on the swim team.  I heard somewhere that if you shave your pits
and pubes that can help you be faster.  They'll get over it."
   "Jesus, fuck, kid, you're something."
   "You wanna fuck your little boy now?"
   "Christ!" he almost shouted.
   We only did one cum when we had sex, at least for John.  Sometimes I'd
cum while he fucked me and then he'd suck me off again when he was done. 
But he'd never gotten hard again.  He did then.
   I put my hand in my mouth, got it sloppy with my spit, reached behind
and sat up a little and started lubing my hole.  I did it a couple of
times, still playing with my dick while he stared at me.
   "How old am I?"
   He caught on quick.  Indecision, and then, "N...eight?"
   I tried to remember a little of what I'd sounded like, what Frank had
sounded like, when we were eight.  It was only six years ago. 
"You...you're so big, daddy." Actually, he wasn't.  Just a slender cut six
inches or so.  "Wh...what are you gonna do?"
   John's face changed.  I'd seen him horny before, but never like this.
   "I'm gonna fuck you, baby boy.  Gonna put daddy's big dick up your
bottom hole.  Get on your fucking hands and knees.  Now!"
   I did, but turned to look over my shoulder.  "But daddy, that won't
fit."
   "Oh, baby boy," he said as he bent over to get his shoes off so he could
get rid of slacks and boxers, "daddy's gonna fucking make it fit."
   He lowered himself to the ground, straddled my legs.  His left hand
caressed my smooth cheeks, his thumb rubbed over my hole.  Then I could
feel the tip of his cock nudging me.  He hawked and spat a couple of times,
and I could feel the slime running down my crack.  He rubbed his leaking
cock around in it and then he started pushing his cock in.
   "Christ, baby boy, daddy is putting his dick in your eight year old
virgin little hole.  Making a boy pussy.  Does it hurt, son?  Tell daddy."
   His voice wanted a "yes." I gave it to him.
   Damn but I was enjoying this.  "Yes, daddy, it hurts, hurts real bad,
oh, daddy, stop, please stop!  Take it out!"
   He wasn't hurting me, of course, not the way my teen pussy was opening
up for him.  I'd been fucked by larger dicks, college cock through the
glory hole in the mall toilet, Latino security guard cock through the same
hole, another man in the park.  But none of the cocks were as big as the
cucumber I'd used as a dildo one afternoon, fucking myself silly and making
a cummy mess of my chest and abs.  I snickered to myself later as my folks
thanked me nicely for the cucumber and onion salad I'd made for dinner.
   "No, son, daddy needs this.  Mommy doesn't like daddy fucking her any
more, so daddy needs a new pussy.  A tight baby boy cunt hole for daddy to
fuck whenever he wants.  Oh, yeah, daddy is gonna breed your cunt, baby
boy."
   We went back and forth that way for just a little bit and then suddenly
his eight year old started "enjoying" it.  The fourteen year old was
enjoying the fuck out of it, too.  John had never fucked me this hard, this
well, and fairly regularly he was hitting my prostate.
   He was stroking in and almost out steadily.  "Christ, son, so fucking
hot to molest my little eight year old.  Fucking his pussy hole, breeding
his little ass.  Gonna do this a lot, baby boy, a fucking lot."
   After a little begging to fuck me harder, babbling how much I enjoyed
daddy's dick inside me, I upped the ante.  Put a hesitant note in my voice.
"D...daddy?"
   "What, son?" He kept on fucking me deep and hard.
   "Are...are you still gonna fuck me like this when I, when I get older?"
   "Fucking Christ yes, boy.  You've got a fantastic cunt."
   I moaned as he demonstrated how fantastic my teen cunt was.
   "E...even when I'm, I'm, like fourteen and, and I've got hairs and
stuff?"
   He stopped with his cock half out, then slowly pushed it back in. 
"Sure, son," he said, his tone wondering where I was going with this, but
he resumed fucking, just slower.
   My left arm was aching from bearing my weight, as I jacked with my
right. I was so goddamned turned on by what we were doing, by the idea that
had just leaped into my head, that I was afraid I'd spoil everything and
cum too soon.
   "Would...would you like it if I fucked a little boy, too?"
   John gasped and pounded my ass.  "Share a little boy with my son?"
   My turn to gasp before managing, "Both of us, daddy.  Fucking the little
boy, taking turns."
   "Daddy fucking his teen son, fucking the little boy, watching my son
fuck the little kid."
   He was speeding up and so was I.  But there was one thing more. 
"D...daddy, would you fuck me hard while I dicked the baby boy?"
   John was having trouble breathing as he ruthlessly fucked me.  "Fucking
Christ, yeah, son.  How...how old is the boy you're fucking right now?"
   Numbers flashed through my mind before I almost incoherently said,
"Four, daddy.  The little cunt is four years old!"
   "Oh God!" he shouted and then I could feel his hot seed pumping inside
me, splashing the walls of my teen cunt while I spewed and spewed and
spewed on the ground, my pussy muscles clamping down and releasing, over
and over, trying to drain him.
   I succeeded.  Well, fuck, we were both drained.  He was slumped over me,
mostly supporting his weight, his stocky belly slick with sweat on my back.
He softened inside me, then moved to slide his meat out.  We both sprawled
on our backs, still gasping for air.
   As I started being able to think again, well, of something other than
what kind of story I was going to tell if my folks caught me coming in
looking like the mess I was after having such great sex out in the woods,
with no blanket or anything on the ground, I decided I had to know.
   "Would you?"
   John didn't pretend not to understand that I was asking not only would
he fuck a little boy if he had the chance, but had he.
   The shit head turned it back on me.  "Would you?"
   I turned my head to look at him.  Smiled.  "Fucker." Thought for all of
a tenth of a second.  Realized the truth.  "Yeah.  First chance I got.  But
I don't know any kids who are eight...or...younger."
   "You sure?  I mean, kid, are you really fucking sure?  Because if you
and I got caught, I'd be in deep shit but you wouldn't.  But if you're
molesting a little boy, fucking his mouth, fucking his cunt, sucking him
off, and you get caught, you'll be the one going to jail.  For a long
fucking time."
   I nodded.  I understood.  But this felt so fucking right.  Okay, okay,
it's wrong and illegal and immoral and all that shit, but I knew I could
make the kid enjoy it as much as me.  And goddamn but I knew I'd enjoy it.
Knew what I'd be fucking jacking off to when I got home, too.  Fuck, even
after two quick and huge cums, my cock was starting to twitch again. 
"Yeah. I'm fucking sure."
   John nodded.  Paused for a damned long time, but since I was hoping,
praying that he'd say what I wanted him to say, I kept my mouth shut.  My
patience was rewarded.
   "I...know...a ten year old.  A retard, actually, with a mind even
younger.  He likes what we...."
   "Whoa!  We?"
   "Uh, yeah, there's two of us."
   "Jesus.  You, what, just walk in the door and fuck the kid or
something?"
   "Well, his dad has to be there."
   I couldn't help the whimper.  John's smile was smug.  "He doesn't do the
kid.  Just us.  But...there's a price."
   My dick was so hard again I was hurting.  "How much?"
   "The dad likes older boys, so I suspect our fantasy here might come
true."
   I moaned.  "Dad would fuck me while I was dicking his boy?"
   A nod.
   I couldn't help but jack my tired prick.  "Could you, uh, you and the
other guy be there, too?"
   A smirk.  "The three men taking turns fucking you while you fucked the
little boy, breeding your cunt at least three times?"
   "Oh, man, fuck, fuck, fuck, yeah!"
   "There's another price, though.  He gets to take pictures of you
molesting his kid."
   Not quite a hardon killer, since I already knew I was an exhibitionist.
But talk about fucking danger.  And even at fourteen I was smart enough to
think of blackmail and what might happen down the line if that kind of
thing got out when I was really old, like thirty or something.
   But since I couldn't just drop in on Hurst Elementary, pick out a six
year old cutie, take him to the boys' room, and use his little ass, when
the hell would I get a chance like this again?  I nodded.  Hesitantly, but
I nodded.
   John stretched out his big hand, with the curly grey and black hair on
the back, and took over jacking.
   "But there's a payoff, too.  He exchanges copies of the pics with other
pedos...." He stopped jacking as I sharply inhaled enough breath to tell
him I wasn't a fucking pedo, but then it hit me.
   I was a fucking pedo.  No one had molested me, using my little body when
I was younger.  I'd gone after the adults I had sex with once I turned
thirteen.  I'm sure there was never any history of it in my family, though,
true, how the fuck would I really know.  But maybe there's a pedo gene or
something, and the switch got flipped into the permanently "on" position
that day.
   I relaxed, slumped back, and John resumed working my dick.  "And we all
get to see pics of other pedos molesting little boys.  So very many, Johnny
boy, so very many."
   And then he sucked me to a third cum while I held his head and fucked
his mouth hard, fantasizing about getting gang-banged while molesting a ten
year old; fantasizing about seeing John and the other man using the boy;
fantasizing about all the other little kids I'd get to see getting dicked
by their daddies, or uncles, or whoever the fuck.  My third cum wasn't as
big a load as the others, but damn we both felt good when it finally
blasted out.
   So there I was.  Fourteen.  A practicing pedo...practicing to not merely
get it right, but get it really good.
   Frank had no fucking idea as we went to middle school and high school
and on to college, sharing a dorm room, joining the same frat, rooming
together there, too.  Obviously, we joined a frat that had no trouble
having a queer pledge, but the fact I was an out and proud faggot (and a
hidden pedo) was more than offset by the fact that I was one of the best
swimmers on the school's team, and eventually made the frat really proud by
bringing home three consecutive championships.
   Frank had known I liked adult men, rather than boys my age, or a few
years older, like high school or college, but all he did was warn me to be
careful.  Although I did date a couple of guys my age for a while during
high school, having come out at fifteen to my not very surprised parents.
The college guys I dated (or had sex with in the library toilet or the
physics building toilet) worked like a beard for me.  If I was getting all
that hot gay college sex, no way could I be a pedo.  Not that I had a lot
of kids to fuck.  Just enough to keep my dick in.
   Oddly enough, no one ever thought Frank was queer just because we were
best friends and lived together.  Sure, we saw each other naked, and with
morning (and other) boners.  Sure, we knew when the other was getting laid,
and laid well, or not so well, or not at all.  But between us there was no
sex going on, no obsession with me for a repeat of my one and only Frank
suck and fuck.  He'd get me drunk to get over the man who got away, or the
man who fucked me over and left.  I'd repay the favor when he got dumped by
one of his broads.  And we kept the tradition of back-to-back birthday
parties going, though we were throwing them for each other.
   At the start of our senior year, we both had the same great idea.  For
my birthday, Frank hired a male stripper to show up at the frat house and
strip raw and get hard.  The guys went along with it, treating it as a
great gag, even though there were some surprising hardons during his
routine, and even though they all knew that on senior birthdays the rules
were relaxed and Frank had paid for the guy to go upstairs to our room so I
could birthday fuck the hell out of him.
   Naturally, I'd already planned the same thing for him for the next
night. Only with a hot woman with big tits and a tiny waist.  I knew that
some of the other brothers, two for sure, got some bang out of my bucks,
but that was okay.  On my night, though, after the stripper-hustler left
(reasonably worn out since I do have a pretty thick eight incher), I got my
mouth fucked by one brother, and my ass pounded by the ten inch black dick
of the school's star quarterback.  After I'd sworn a solemn oath to tell no
one, of course.
   By Christmas, the brother who fucked my mouth came out.  The
quarterback? Not fucking likely.  We occasionally and very secretly got
together during the rest of our senior year.  No reciprocity, just me deep
throating that massive meat or taking it up the ass.  I enjoyed every inch
of it.  You'd know his name since he went into pro football, so I'm
obviously not going to mention it.  And he still likes the way I quietly
(or loudly if it's safe) work his dick whenever we're in the same city.
   Frank got a scholarship to an Ivy League law school on the coast.  I
went to the opposite coast (not that we didn't regret the necessity) to get
my master's and Ph.D., and become the best damn (pedo) elementary school
educator the country had ever known.  We kept in touch while he joined a
prestigious law firm and started making megabucks.  I taught elementary
school for a while, then went into administration, becoming headmaster at a
private boys' prep school when I was thirty-two.
   By that time, Frank was married, had a son he named John (aw, shucks),
divorced with full custody, remarried, and had another one on the way when
he decided he wanted a quieter life.  With his money, he could afford to
leave the big bucks on the coast, and move to the city I was living in.  He
missed his best friend he said.  And commiserated with me through several
bottles of very expensive booze shortly after the move, that I'd never
found the "right" man.
   Since the "right" man for me would have to be a pedo, and my pedo mentor
John had died in a car crash, and the other two were long gone, that wasn't
fucking likely.  But it was good to have Frank back in my life.
   Until I met Little John...a name we called him in private when we were
together, never in front of his friends.
   Two days after the drunken reunion I met a stunning ten year old who was
the same gorgeous, slender little boy as his dad had been.  I was in
instant lust, and thanked God (or whoever the fuck) that I'd decided at the
last minute to wear a jock instead of going my more often than not
commando. And thanked God/whoever again when neither of them appeared to
notice the bulge when the boy politely shook my hand.
   That's when my idiot best friend first began to demonstrate what an
idiot he was.  He involved me in his life again.  I was with him when
little Robert (immediately Bobby) was born, and got to admire the chocolate
skin and slightly loose black curls he inherited from his black mother.  I
was there to hold Frank when she was killed in car crash three months later
even though he'd finally come to his senses and was about to divorce the
nigger ho.
   He found out during the pregnancy that she was fucking around, so he got
the kid's DNA tested almost before the kid was born.  The kid was his.  He
was, of course, rightfully furious about the ho slutting around, and he
vented a hell of a lot to me, and did me the courtesy of never once telling
me I had to be sure not to tell anyone else.  It turned out from the
autopsy that not only had she been more than a little drunk, she had been
much more than a little pregnant, and Frank knew that kid wasn't his.  So
more venting, more anger, more pain, and I held him, and held Bobby, and
even Little John, when they cried.  Okay, so Bobby was crying just because
he was a baby and needed feeding or a diaper changed or whatever the fuck.
   And "Uncle" John became the babysitter of choice.
   Frank the fuckhead strikes again.
   I was an idiot for agreeing the first time, but when your best friend
asks you a favor, and the only thing you were planning on that evening
anyway was to jack off to some porn--which I admitted when he asked, though
I didn't volunteer that I was planning on doing it to the video of seven
year old Hans getting fucked by his chunky German father Dieter, and his
great uncle Albrecht--what could I do but say yes.
   Which led to me bathing and changing little Bobby, and though I told
myself I wouldn't, as soon as we were alone, I was caressing his soft skin,
fondling his pricklet, watching it stiffen up, gently rubbing my finger
over his tight little hole.  Oh, and I also got to see a lot of Little
John. A whole lot, since he decided to skip the shy, always cover up so no
one can see your boy bits phase, and go directly to naked is good.  I
certainly didn't remember Frank's dick being that large when he was only
eleven.  Or as Little John insisted around that time, eleven years and
eight months.  Sometimes the boy was soft, sometimes, a lot of times, he
had a stiffie.  And just ignored it like it wasn't happening.
   Fortunately for what little sanity I had left, I wasn't entirely blue
balled by all this.  I had little Emilio to take the edge off.  Carlos, his
father, was the janitor at Presteign Academy.  He got into some trouble,
the board of directors was going to override my decision and fire him, and
I helped him keep his job.  I had no ulterior motive, because he basically
did his job very well, although I do have to admit I would have missed the
glory that was seven year old Emilio when he came to visit his father after
school, since he got out before Carlos' shift ended.
   It was about six months after Frank's wife died, a week after I told
Carlos he still had his job, and I was working in my office on a Saturday
afternoon.  A quiet day, no one around, a time to catch up and even get a
little ahead.  Or as it turned out, not a little head, but a lot of head.
And a lot of cock.  There was a knock on my door, and I just called out to
come in.
   It was Carlos and Emilio.  I couldn't keep my eyes from widening in
surprise.  He's a six foot tall Mexican, thin as the proverbial rail, but
with wiry muscles and a flat belly with a nice six pack, especially since
he was almost forty.  Not that I'd ever seen any of that before, except the
height, since the janitor's uniform wasn't something tailored, just
something tan and cheap.  Only that day he was wearing a white wife-beater
that left his belly bare, showing some really nice art, and showing some
long, thick black hair in his pits.  I hardened a bit.  Though I'm a pedo
by preference, I'm a queer for pits and funky assholes and raunchy pubes.
His jeans were worn, faded almost to white, beltless, and tight enough to
show off an impressive bulge down his right leg.  Worn trainers with a hole
in the left one over his little toe.
   I flicked my eyes over to Emilio, who was dressed just like his father,
though the clothes were newer and no hole in his trainers.  Then up to
Carlos' face.  There was something in his eyes, an odd look I didn't
understand until a short while later.  "Mr.  Wade, Emilio wishes to say
thank you for helping his papi."
   "Not necessary, Carlos, not necessary at all.  Glad to do it.  And when
we're off duty, just call me John, okay?"
   "Si, Mister, ah, John.  But Emilio does want to thank you, don't you,
son?"
   "Si, Mister John."
   I graciously gave in, swiveled my chair to my left.  I had seen Emilio
once come running up to his papi, and get swung up in his arms, and then
kiss his father on both cheeks.  So I figured that's what I was in for, and
I could keep my dick soft through that.  I was commando, since I'd planned
on jacking to a very secure clip on my tablet, once my work was done.  For
a pedo, there's something special about jacking and cumming on school
grounds, first thinking about all the little boys in your school, and your
particular favorites, and their naked little bodies covered in soap or
water when they showered after gym, and then watching a video of an
elderly, wrinkled-skin, pot-bellied Asian man getting fisted by one little
Chinese boy and sucked by another.  The cocksucker was happy to open wide
and show a mouth almost literally full of the old man's seed, before
swallowing it down.
   I figured wrong.  I was just starting to lean forward to get my head
down to his level when he said, "Oh, no, Mister John.  I have to give you a
good kiss.  A special kiss papi taught me."
   And before I knew it, Emilio was scrambling up on my lap, straddling my
thighs with his knees on the seat of my chair, his plump bottom almost
touching my thighs, saying as he put his beautiful slender hands on my
shoulders.  "You have to open your mouth, Mister John."
   The initial sounds of "Uh, what did you say?" were starting to come out
of my mouth, which was apparently all the opening he needed to plant his
lips on mine, and start tonguing me.  I was getting French-kissed by a
seven year old boy!  My pedo instincts kicked in and I began tonguing him
back.  Those instincts were knocked upside the head by my survival
instinct, so I broke off the kiss, grabbed his shoulders and held him away
from me.
   There was nothing I could do about the visible hardon in my own jeans,
except to ignore it.  I turned my head toward Carlos with a definitely
harsh "What the fuck!" expression in my eyes, which faded away when I saw
him squeezing his dick and heard him say, "I saw you with little Charles,
John."
   Charles.  Nine years old.  Plump.  Well behaved.  And the well-fucked
son of a British businessman who had to be in the States and in our city
for roughly a semester, so he took his son out of school in London and
plunked him down at Presteign, so that he could be near his precious son
and his boy wouldn't get lonely.
   The little slut wasn't lonely at all, not with all the fresh meat to
conquer.  He was working his way steadily through the younger boys, then
the older boys, then the staff.  The board, most of whom had been students
here, had an unofficial policy of boys will be boys, and tended to allow
the headmaster, instructors and staff to overlook some quiet sex.  But not
to the point where rumors, much less truth, could cause a problem for the
school.
   So I had him brought to my office for a little heart to heart talk, and
an explanation that while we couldn't condone what he was doing (have to
cover the school's ass in conversations like this), nevertheless we could
overlook it if he was just more discreet.  Although it was really the
prefect's fault that the two of them got caught in the linen closet. 
Charles was giving such a good blowjob that James, the prefect, shouted out
"Christ, you little slut, I'm cumming!" Followed closely by "Suck me dry!"
It was unfortunate that the math and history instructors were walking by
just at the right (wrong) moment.  Even more unfortunate that James, as a
seventeen year old prefect with certain responsibilities, had been foolish
enough not to lock the door.
   Really.  Why else would there be locks on the inside of every door in
the complex if it wasn't to be able to provide a little privacy for some
sex?
   And really, young Charles had a very sensible explanation for his
promiscuity.  He needed to find the right dicks to sex him in between
visits from his father.  He was perpetually horny, and his father alone
wasn't enough to satisfy him.  Back in England, he'd had one teacher, one
senior and two classmates who sexed him so that he had a nice dry cum at
least twice a day, which kept him on an even keel until his father could
visit on the weekends, check them into a posh hotel where he was well
known, and then stay in bed most of the weekend fucking.
   Well, naturally, if there is a little boy in need, a pedo will be the
first to offer his dick in assistance.  Especially if the boy's need is for
man cock.  It turned out I had been as foolish as the prefect in not making
sure my own office door was locked before offering my meat as a sample in
his quest for cock.  It was after hours, my secretary was gone, my car was
not gone but in the shop, I'd taken a taxi, so Carlos thought it was okay
to come in to clean my office.
   He arrived, he told me, when Charles was naked, on his back on my desk,
my folded up coat used to support his neck, his head tilted back over the
edge, while I steadily fucked my whole cock into and out of his mouth and
throat, while I worked three fingers in and out of his pussy, giving him
several very good dry cums before shooting my own load right into his
belly. I never noticed, heard, the door open, stay open for a few moments
watching the fuck scene, and then close quietly.
   For the remainder of the semester, I was using Charles regularly each
week, but not often enough for me to assume I was the only one molesting
him.  I didn't ask, he didn't tell.  But I was special enough that on the
last weekend before he was to leave again for England, he introduced me to
his father.  We had a great afternoon, sharing little Charles' holes, and I
also got to fuck the baron.
   By the time we reached that part of our conversation about Charlie the
Brit cunt kid, Carlos had locked the door, and I'd gotten little Emilio
naked so I could play with his stiffie, and then Carlos laughed.  It seems
he'd been one of the others dicking Charles, and about two hours after I
left the, I thought, exhausted father and son in their hotel room, it was
Carlos' turn to share fucks with father and son, and end with power fucking
the baron while the baron fucked the boy.
   There was no need for further discussion of whether, or how, little
Emilio was going to thank me.  The only question was whether I wanted to
start with his already lubed boy pussy (a combination of Carlos' cum and
KY) and then have him lick me clean and fuck his mouth, or vice versa.
   We put little Emilio on all fours on the thick carpet in front of my
desk, right after he'd gotten my dick thoroughly slimed with his talented
deep throating.  When he'd lifted his head, he said, "Mi abuelo tiene una
gran pinga, pero no tan grande como usted."
   I tilted my head toward the now naked Carlos, tats everywhere, thick,
thick pubes to go with his pits, a slender trail of fur from between his
nips to his belly, very hairy legs, a wide mouth that I figured was as
talented as his son's when it came to sucking cock, deep set eyes, sharp
cheekbones.
   He translated for me: "My grandfather has a big dick, but yours is
bigger." Then he laughed when Emilio said, "Pero pinga de mi padre es mas
grande." Which meant, "But my father's cock is bigger than yours."
   I joined in the laughter since I could see it was true.  He had at least
an inch on me in length, and was thicker.  Ropy veins running to the large
cut head.  It looked like it could be a cruel fuck.  What a hot image.
   Once my cock was in the little boy's cunt, an easy job since he was so
experienced, perhaps even more so than Charles, I had Carlos stand over his
son and began the work of getting that huge meat into my throat so I could
breathe in the raunch of his pubes.  After a while, Carlos took control of
my head, holding it in place as he fucked my mouth.  Emilio must have done
that scene before because he braced himself as my cock pounding his cunt
became somewhat erratic as his papi used me, but eventually we all three
had enormous satisfying cums.
   But even with having seven year old Emilio fairly regularly, like any
other self-respecting child molester I was always on the lookout for more
kiddy cock and kiddy cunt.  Which naturally led to lust when my idiot best
friend allowed his fag buddy to be around his naked boys.  Allowing me to
bathe little Bobby or change his diapers, for good reason or with me, no
fucking reason at all other than looking at baby boy dick and stroking
virgin baby boy hole, showing no surprise or upset when Little John walked
or bounced or pranced around nude, showing off a surprising amount of boy
meat for his age.
   Then idiot Frank upped the ante one fucking Saturday afternoon.  Unlike
a private academy headmaster who had weekends free unless there was
something unusual, or he chose to work, Frank was a lawyer who couldn't
always keep client meetings and client work to normal business hours.  And
when he was preparing for trial, particularly a major antitrust trial that
was going to last at least a month, evenings and weekends were pretty much
shot.  Enter best friend Uncle John, his pedo pal, whose painful hardons
increased exponentially as he took over kiddy care duty.
   Sure, Frank had the kind of money that could easily have afforded
professionals to care for his boys, but if Little John and Bobby were going
to be sat, they wanted to choose the sitter.  And the winner is....
   So Bobby went to his usual daycare, and when LJ, as I soon shortened it,
finished school, there was a driver to bring him over to the Academy, where
there was plenty to occupy his time until I was done.  On a couple of
occasions we even had to have the driver pick up Bobby because I was
working late, and LJ did the right thing and helped out until I could get
us all home.  Home being Frank's house, of course.
   "C'mon, guy, no need to commute.  Just stay here.  And what the hell, if
you need your dildos and shit, just bring `em along.  I've got a chest with
a lock you can store `em in.  And there's a big flat screen in the spare
bedroom with a top end player."
   Yeah, fucking right.  Like I'm doing to dildo fuck my cunt and scream
out a cum with the three of them around.  Or have my boy pussy porn DVDs
anywhere near.  Six weeks of hell during the last of Frank's trial prep and
the trial, being around those three, but I figured I could survive.  And
besides, Frank had promised, best buddy to best buddy, that he'd fucking
make it up to me.  I did the obligatory, aw shit, `tweren't nuthin' y'don't
need to bit.  Actually, I fucking felt he did need to, not so much for the
babysitting but the disruption of my pedo life and those fucking painful
extra hardons I would be having so fucking often.
   Then about ten days or so into my baby boy, teen boy sitting duties, I
walked in on Frank...naked.  Not me.  Him.  Even under a long robe, I
always had a jock on.  And thanked God/whoever that was so when I headed
down to the kitchen to mix myself an extra dry martini (the vermouth cork
is waved vaguely in the direction of the chilled glass), and there was
naked Frank, bent over to get something in the bottom of the fridge.  His
muscled, oh so fucking hairy legs were spread wide, I could see a hint of
his hairy cunt (though since Frank was my straight best friend that was
merely wishful thinking), and Christ on a crutch, but those were huge, low
hanging balls.  And then he got the can he was looking for, stood up, and
nonchalantly turned around.
   "Hey, John!  Want a beer?"
   I blinked and tried to recall how to speak.  It had been years since I'd
seen his dick and it was as impressive as ever, even soft.  Mostly soft. 
Long, thick, uncut with a foreskin that molded his wide knob and then
stretched down at least a half inch.  He'd always been about six inches or
so soft which I'd never formally gotten to measure, and hard, he looked to
be just a bit shorter than me, making him just under/right at eight inches.
I nodded, managing somehow not to stare too much at the equally thick, very
curly pubes, or the pelt of fur that went from the hollow of his throat,
down and across still impressive pecs and a mostly taut belly with just the
beginnings of love handles, into the forest around his cock and balls.
   "I, uh, what?"
   Frank snickered, and then the bastard deliberately reached down with his
left hand, hefted his balls and scratched underneath.
   "Prick teasing bastard," I said, looking him in the eye.
   "Cock sucking fag," he said right back.
   Our long ago ritual completed once again, I stepped up, grabbed the beer
out of his hand and gulped down a nice chug of icy goodness.  Frank
chuckled, turned around, and the shit head even waggled his ass at me as he
bent over to get another beer.  I gulped some more.
   Straightening up, turning around, he leaned back against the door of the
refrigerator.  "Y'know, I think maybe LJ has the right idea."
   My "What idea?" was a stalling tactic because I was fairly sure in that
moment where he was heading.  And fuckwad went right there.
   "The whole naked at home thing.  The house is always at the right
temperature, complete privacy, including the pool.  Think of all the money
I'll save on laundry, especially for the boys."
   Like the prick would miss it, or even the fuck needed the "savings."
   I raised the beer can in a mocking salute.  "Great idea, asshole.  I'm
gonna enjoy this one."
   "Gettin' a look at all that dick that's off limits?"
   What the fuck!  Had he really noticed me getting off ogling his naked
boys?
   I mentally wiped a brow as he looked down at his slightly plumped prick,
and waved his hand at it.  "It's still okay to look, guy.  Never bothered
me.  I know how you queers are about staring at straight dick."
   Anyone else, I would have punched him out, but we'd bantered like this
for years.
   "Nope.  Been there, done that, had better.  Longer and thicker, too. 
No, what I'm gonna enjoy is the expression on your face when you find out
the cost of reupholstering once one or both of the boys forgets to wipe
really, really well, and squirms around on those ostentatious couches and
armchairs in the living room."
   He paused, went kind of blank faced.  But he'd always been stubborn once
he'd made up his mind about wanting or doing something, and always went
ahead, even when disaster loomed.  Like the bitch he married for round two.
She was beautiful, intelligent, charming, and a complete ho once she had
the diamond studded wedding band to go with the huge diamond engagement
ring.  Once she was safely pregnant she fucked around on him with anything
that would get hard for her.  With Frank's work schedule, and the general
reluctance to tell him about her, except for the asshole women who thought
because I was queer I was a queen and would therefore be happy to bitch
about the bitch and let him know, he didn't find out that she'd been
sucking dick after she was too far along to fuck, until a month before
Bobby was born.
   But even after the DNA test, knowing the law in our state said the
little nigglet-son-of-a-slut-bitch was Frank's regardless of biological
reality, Frank would have been willing to keep the marriage going, if she
just stopped what she was doing.  They had a very Frank (intentional
capital there) talk, and she did the
so-sorry-never-again-don't-wanna-lose-my-gravy-train bit.
   Bobby was just a month old when Frank deliberately came home early,
having assured her that morning that he fully trusted her, and that because
of that bastard client he probably wouldn't be home until midnight or one.
He walked in on her nursing the baby while two of the three brothers who
lived next door used her.  The fifteen year old was fucking her cunt; the
nineteen year old was fucking her mouth.
   The two teens, particularly the younger one, were frightened out of
their horny little minds when Frank walked in on them.  Frank, you see, can
definitely come off as the meanest motherfucker in the valley when he wants
to.  Which he did at that moment.  He told me later that he almost broke up
when the fifteen year old started pumping the condom full the second he
yanked it out of her hole, doing a whole body bright red blush.  The older
one tried for more man of the world shit, but lost his cool just like his
younger brother when Frank told the pair to get the fuck out of his house
and not come back.
   Of course, she swore up and down it was only a one time thing, he was so
busy, she was so lonely, but give her just one more chance, and she'd prove
to him she would be faithful.  Really, she would.  He pretended to believe
her, caved like the pussy whipped husband she thought she'd landed, and
started making preparations for the divorce the next morning.
   Frank even admitted that if it hadn't been his slut wife doing it, the
whole thing would have been kind of hot.  In fact, he'd gotten hard the
instant he saw the scene and it hadn't gone down enough not to be visible
when he was throwing the neighbor boys out.  He smirked and said he thought
the fifteen year old was interested in his package.  And then scratched his
balls and leered at me.
   Prick teasing fucker.
   He started getting ready for the divorce by moving some assets around
(as in hiding them the fuck away), and having her followed and
photographed.
   It turned out, he said, that besides two businessmen she fucked fairly
regularly while she was supposedly shopping, or at the club, or doing
something charitable, her thirteen year old brother was also doing her,
along with her father, which was just plain disgusting.  I naturally
agreed. Aloud.  Inside my head, having briefly met the brother and the
father at the wedding I was imagining myself being used by both and getting
stiff from the idea.
   The car crash fortunately eliminated the need for a messy divorce, since
this was a community property state and he would have had to have made
public just what a slut she was in order to keep all the assets, and not
just half.  He wouldn't have done so enthusiastically, but to keep from
being fucked over by her he would have done it.
   Frank came back to reality, grinned at me, scratched his balls and
snickered when I automatically looked down at his meat, and drank some
beer. The next day he continued preparing for the trial.
   Only naked.
   Everything his firm did was electronic, so he didn't have to fuck with
boxes and boxes of paper, just megabytes and megabytes of data on his
screen.  If he had to Skype his staff he had a shirt he could toss on, and
seated behind his desk it would look like he was fully dressed.  Once I got
there with the boys each evening, my job was to keep them occupied and away
from daddy except for dinner and for him to say good night.
   On the weekends, he might plan in an hour break to spend some time with
the boys, but they couldn't count on it, so between five Friday and get the
fuck up for school Monday, it was mostly me and the mostly naked boys.
   Fuck, fuck, fuck.  Flesh to the right of me, flesh to the left of me,
and not any flesh to fuck.  Just a hairy naked hunk daddy, a
just-starting-to-hair-up naked thirteen year old with a perpetual stiffie,
and a milk chocolate colored three year old nigger boy, who insisted on
being naked just like his daddy and his older brother.  And without talking
about it, got stiffies as well.
   Yeah, yeah, yeah, the fucking horrible n-word.  But I couldn't separate
the kid from his nigger ho mother.  And then there was the kiddy porn film
I'd brought along on my tablet after all.  Actually, not just one.  I
figured if I was going to be around basically untouchable dicks and asses,
I was going to enjoy myself in private, with something more than a few
quick strokes of my right hand.  The software I installed had been used to
create a file with a forty-six character password, and in the folder hidden
inside that file I kept some of my favorite pedo stories to jack to, and of
course a fair number of vids.
   The one I was enjoying often, recently, particularly after I started
lusting after Bobby, was one with some Southern white trash good old boys,
ranging in age from (I guessed, the clip didn't exactly feature bios) 19
(skinny, hung, well tatted, wasted on booze or drugs but still able to get
his pierced cock up and working) through middle-aged, stocky, hairy men, to
one old big-bellied, long dicked uncut grampa.  And they were raping a
scrawny four year old nigger boy.  While his daddy watched.  Daddy
obviously wanted to leave after grampa gave him the money, but whether it
was the gun one of them had, or just the forcefulness of the old man, the
nigger did what he was told.  He stripped and stayed.
   He probably didn't know at the time that the room was fucking wired for
video and sound, so he didn't know he was part of the kiddy porn fuck film
the men were making.  Didn't know that the chair they told him to sit in
had a camera of its own, so the shots of daddy nigger getting hard while
his valuable baby boy was not merely molested but vigorously raped were
pretty fucking hot.  As was the way he started working that long thick
meat, immediately following the old white man's orders to drop his pants
around his ankles, spread his legs and start jacking.
   I'd never made it all the way through the fucking fuck vid without
cumming before the final scene: daddy nigger already having cum once when
the skinny trash pumped an overflowing load into the nigglet's pussy, he
was now raping his own four year old, whose eyes were glazed over, tears
still streaking down his face.  A nice long fucking daddy nigger rape since
the edge was off, and then he pumped his own load into his baby's cunt. 
Great closeup of the bruised, raw ass lips leaking all that cum, then daddy
with a semi-disgusted, semi-horny look being made to eat out his son's
sloppy ass.  Then a really disgusted look when they all pissed on the pair,
making both nigger daddy and nigger four year old swallow some of the piss,
too.
   And with all those images in my head, I started molesting little nigglet
Bobby.
   It would have been fucking hot as hell if I could have sexed him right
up to just before Frank and LJ were scheduled to get back, but I had to
allow time for clean up and for his cunt to close back up tight again. 
Fortunately, little boy pussies are resilient, and while deep fucking his
little brown pussy hard and fast was a great fantasy, and one unlikely to
ever occur, I was going to take what I could get here and now.
   ***
   Tonight was the night.  It was the second Saturday before the trial
started.  LJ had been promised months ago that if he did really well on
some fucking school thing or other (how the fuck would I know?  I just
nodded my head and made appropriate approving noises at hopefully the right
moments) his daddy would take him out, just the two of them, for a very
special celebration.  Some dads, given the work Frank was doing, would have
done the "have to work, we'll do it later if I remember" thing.  Not Frank.
He honored his promises.  All dressed up, coats and ties for both of them
(fucking mouth dropping, especially since I could tell they were both
commando), off at four, back by ten, so LJ could get to bed and Frank could
get in three or four hours of catch up.
   My idiot friend was gone.  I had Bobby alone for six hours.  Which is
why I drugged his milk around three.  Bobby was old enough and bright
enough that he'd never keep his mouth shut about having opened his mouth so
Uncle John's dick could slide in and out and slime it with his seed, much
less about getting cock in his baby virgin cunt.  So what choice did I
have?
   Fortunately, the baron had been generous, not only with his boy's cunts
and his own, but with information.  When he traveled to particular
locations around the world, he had contacts who could arrange for him to
molest a local boy.  The baron for obvious reasons preferred virgins or
near virgins, but unless the boys were really young, as in under two when
they weren't articulate enough to spill the proverbial beans, and the baron
had indeed had kid cunt in that age range, the youngest a year old
Portuguese boy in Brasilia, he carried some specially formulated rape
drugs. Powder form.  You just figured the boy's weight, put the
corresponding amount of "boy dust" into a drink or food, and you had an
unconscious little boy who was not only very, very fucking relaxed, but
with incredibly sensitive skin.
   He'd given me some of his own stash (not enough to put him at risk of
not having enough for the next boy he was going to drug and molest), and
told me how to get in touch with a supplier.  And there I was drugging the
milk.  By the time LJ and Frank were ready to say goodbye, Bobby was kind
of woozy and I passed it off as him just being tired (since I'd made sure
to play extra time with him to set that up), and I'd lay him down for a
nap. And no, Frank, I wouldn't let him sleep so long that he wouldn't go to
sleep that night.  Asshole.
   Fuck, fuck, fuck!  I had a drugged nigglet all to myself for hours.
   Yeah, I'd rather have him awake and cooperating.  Or struggling a
little. Or really fighting my dick getting into one of his boy cunts.  Or
all fucking three options.  But I wanted, fucking needed, at least one good
cum in one of his holes.  And as horned as I was, waiting almost three
fucking years for this, I figured I could seed both his cunts.  As long as
I left some time for the boy pussy to close back up.
   You've never lived until you're an early-middle age, big-dicked, white
pedo with a naked three year old nigglet sprawled on his back, his baby
meat temporarily flopping over the small tight sack.
   Fuck but that drug was great.  I just barely rubbed my callused thumbs
over his dark boy titties and they stiffened right up.  Tiny, tiny dark
chocolate kisses.  With one hand raising his head I forced my lips down on
his plump ones, pushing until he opened his mouth and I plunged my tongue
deep inside, while with my big right hand I fondled and squeezed his baby
dick and balls.  I lifted my head, looked down at his gaping mouth,
drooling with our spit, his lips all puffy.  I was going to fuck that
little hole, but first, a change of plans.
   I sucked my middle finger, got it wet, raised little Bobby's legs and
shoved it all the way in his hole.  Even drugged the kid squealed.  Nice!
But he was so fucking tight, and I'm so fucking big compared to that tiny
toddler hole I knew I was going to stretch that pussy wide.  So I decided
to fuck the kid cunt first, give it enough time once I'd bred his bowels,
to clean my seed out and give the hole plenty of time to close up before
his family got home.  That way the violation of his virgin pussy would not
be so noticeable next time his dad gave him a bath.
   Pedos are men of action.  They have to be.  When molesting a child,
particularly if there's a risk of being caught (like in a park or a toilet)
you have to be prepared to fucking go for it, get it in no matter how much
the child struggles, get off, and get the fuck out.  Even when you're
certain you have hours of alone time in private with a fresh kiddy, the
first and foremost thing is to get your rocks off in a child hole.  So I
flipped him over, put a pillow under him to raise that baby mini-basketball
butt, spread his cheeks and ate out his little cunt.
   Then it was time.  I spit-slimed my meat, made sure Bobby's head was to
the side so he could breathe, used my left hand to hold onto his shoulder
and brace his little body, seated my knob at his not-yet-pussy lips and
pushed.  And my fucking dick just slide right up his crack!
   I took out my frustration by letting go of my dick and slapping his ass
nice and hard.  It was, after, the little fucker's fault.  Well, somehow.
The sound was loud in the room and my cock spurted.  I got myself slimed up
again, and this time I wiggled around so before that the tip of my knob,
and my large pee slit were actually pushing in just a little when I used my
hips and fucking much larger weight to shove against the hole.
   Whether it was my strength, the drug, or just plain pedo talent, it
fucking worked.  My knob punched through as Bobby struggled just a bit and
gasped loudly.  Fuck!  So fucking hot to look down and see the knob of my
stark white thick cock buried in the oh so dark cunt of little nigger,
okay, half-nigger, Bobby.  I dropped more spit, used my fingers to slime it
around, and still holding his shoulder tight, and hoping I wasn't bruising
him...well, fuck, also hoping that if I was, what the fuck, his nigger skin
was dark enough no one would notice...I shoved an inch of shaft in.
   If this was a long-term boy to molest, I would have begun as I meant to
go on, and gotten all of my dick in his cunt.  But since this was a most
likely one-time fuck, I couldn't wreck his pussy that way, even
temporarily. So, still using my weight on my left hand to hold him still I
began a gentle in and out fuck of his boy cunt, watching with pleasure as
his pussy relaxed just a little bit, letting two inches of shaft in.  Back
and forth, back and forth, thick white meat stroking in and out of
incredibly tight and hot three year old nigglet boy cunt, while my right
hand was carefully jacking the rest of my length, working myself up to the
best cum I'd had in a long time.
   Then it happened.
   Inexperienced pedos who are close to cumming in some kid hole, on
unexpectedly hearing a deep older voice and a higher pitched young voice
say something fairly loud at the same time, tend to panic, yank their dicks
out and start spewing, as if spreading the DNA around in the air or
whatever it happens to land on will get them out of trouble.
   Experienced pedos, however, pedos with years of finely-honed instincts
may twitch at the sound, okay, okay, may fucking jump, but they maintain
(regain) control, ignoring the meaning of the words, and keep on fucking or
wanking or any combination thereof until they're quickly gasping or
shouting out what is likely to be their final kid fuck ever.  Which is the
point of persevering in claiming the boy pussy.
   It was only after I'd shouted out "Fuck your baby pussy, Bobby!" as I
really, really, really slimed his cunt, and collapsed, panting, over him,
though not putting any weight on him, that I let my mind register the
actual words.
Frank: "You're fucking the nigger?"
LJ: "Oh, wow, Uncle John, that's so fucking hot?"
   What the fuck?
   We were so fucking far past the modesty point, that I just pulled my
dick out of the nigglet's cunt, twisted, and wound up sitting on the edge
of the bed, my legs spread wide, my still hard dick standing up and pedo
proud.  LJ and Frank weren't really looking at me, though.  They were
staring at Bobby's gaping, abused pussy with Uncle John cum, bright white
against that oh so dark skin, leaking out.  Although LJ looked away first,
and stared intensely at my dick.  I twitched it for him, he inhaled, and
grabbed his crotch.
   Well, fucking well, my "nephew" was going commando and was hard.
   So many questions it was hard to know where to start, but I picked one.
Frank calling his own son a nigger.  Not in the cards.  Too fucking liberal
and conscientious for that.  Obviously, I have never shared those
sentiments.  There are blacks (far too few) and niggers (far too many).
   I tilted my head toward the not as well fucked as I would have liked
little nigglet and back up, and said, "Nigger, Frank?"
   He flushed, something he rarely did since confident big shot lawyers
couldn't do that kind of thing.  "Not my son."
   "But the DNA...."
   "I lied."
   "Jesus, fuck, man!" I was his best fucking friend since fucking forever
and he lied?  My tone told him what the fuck I thought of that bullshit.
   Another, deeper flush.  Which certainly didn't take all that much blood
away from the major Frank hardon straining the left leg of his tight jeans.
"Sorry, man, but with all that shit going on, and Bobby being pure nigger
with a nigger whore mama, I just didn't want to deal with it.  Still
fucking don't."
   I wasn't interested in some soul-baring philosophical discussion at that
point since there was the other elephant, hell, a king-sized mastodon from
the ice age, in the room.  "So, how long you and LJ been fucking?"
   It was the kid's turn to flush.  "A little over two years," Frank said.
   "Two years, three months, twelve days," LJ said with a grin.
   So LJ had still been ten when his daddy first dicked him.  The bastard.
"Why the fuck didn't you share?"
   Frank snorted.  "When the fuck did you ever let me know you were a
pedo?"
   I smirked right back.  "Too?"
   Frank grimaced and nodded.  "As far as I knew you were just an ordinary
faggot, who liked older men more than he let on and thought I didn't know."
   I blinked and set that conversation aside for another time.
   "And all this naked around the house shit?"
   Frank's turn to smile.  "Well, we just had that one time, all those
years ago, and once I realized I liked fucking my son, and, well, having
him fuck me, I thought I'd try to find out if you were, maybe, still
interested in me.  Or could get interested again."
   There was something else going on.  So I stroked my leaking cock, made
it ooze precum.  "And?"
   LJ piped up.  "And I wanted you to fuck me!"
   By this time, their pants were around their ankles, their hardons were
jutting out and leaking, and they were peeling off the rest of their
clothes.
   "And I wanted to watch you do him." Father and son joined me in jacking.
"Only I couldn't just, well, offer my hot son's tight cunt to you, you
know? You could have been one of those honorable faggots...."
   "So are they all, all honorable fags?"
   "Yeah, something like that.  And you could have reported me to the cops,
friend or not."
   "So you've been trying to seduce me."
   "Uh-huh." That from LJ.
   "Not very fucking good at it, are you?"
   Frank banged the ball right back.  "And you weren't very observant
yourself, asshole."
   Frank started to say something else, then looked at "his" nigger son,
realized how very quiet he was being after having fat white meat in his
pussy.  "What's up with Bobby?"
   Another smirk.  Then very casually, "Oh, just some really fine drugs."
   Frank is a very good father, and even though the nigglet wasn't blood,
he had been raising the boy for three years, so some father feelings were
there.  Like the ones that wanted him to reach out and pound the shit out
of the man who doped his boy up.  That part was visible for all of a
second, then it got squelched firmly by his no longer inner pedo.  He
lifted an eyebrow, his usual demand for a response.
   "A friend of mine.  Travels all over the world.  Loves fresh virgin
little boys.  Three years old.  Two.  One."
   Frank moaned, LJ whispered "Oh, fuck!" Both kept right on jacking.
   "The drugs, some combination of shit, mostly knocks them out, makes
their skin very sensitive, helps relax their virgin cunts, but not so much
as to lose the enjoyment of taking the boy's cherry."
   "Like you took Bobby's."
   Smug, smug, smug.  "Fuckin' right, Frank."
   I turned the kid over, moved the pillow, showed them how Bobby's nigger
dickie got all stiff, and his titties, too.  LJ stepped out of his clothes,
moved his naked, muscular just-barely-teen body to the bed.  Got up on it
next to Bobby, across from me.  Caressed the nigglet flesh.  Moaned when he
twisted one of Bobby's nips and the kid's stiff dickie twitched.  We
watched as he reached between the three year old's legs and clearly shoved
his first two fingers up in the well-seeded cunt.  Brought them out, and
licked them clean with lip smacking enjoyment.
   He looked across the mostly unconscious little body at me, and then at
Frank.  "Can I fuck him now, daddy?  Do we have to wait?"
   I couldn't do the fucking eyebrow lift thing, but I had my own
expression, finely tuned after years of using it on recalcitrant little boy
shits and teachers who were fucking up my boy fucking, that said, "Explain!
And do it fucking now!"
   "We were going to start, ah...."
   There was a definite pause while Frank, the fucking lawyer never at a
loss for fucking words, couldn't bring himself to say it.  So I finished
the sentence for him: "Molesting him?"
   "Fuck.  Yes, damn it.  Molesting him.  But later.  I...we...never
thought...this young.  Can they really enjoy it?"
   "Does it matter?"
   That shut him up.  I've rarely seen Frank with that kind of stunned look
on his face.  LJ, a very, very smart young boy, had the same kind of
expression.
   "There were some times, weren't there, early on, when you were first
dicking LJ here, that he'd tell you he was hurting, he'd ask you, maybe beg
you, to stop, or to ease off, but you kept right on rutting?  Pounding your
prick in his cunt?"
   Frank's expression was a weird ass mixture of embarrassment and pedo
fuck pride.  And happy memories.
   I looked at the horny thirteen year old.  "You wanna fuck your nigger
half-bro using your uncle's cum for lube?"
   LJ moaned and jacked faster.  My thick meat pointing the way, I arranged
the soon to be a nigglet whore on his belly, my sweaty, greasy hands
fucking with Frank's thousand and one count sheets and pillow cases as I
got his fat little rump in position.  LJ clambered up on the bed, got on
his knees, braced himself with one hand, his right guiding his young teen
cock, and then just fucking shoved all four inches right down to his bare
flesh.
   "Oh, daddy, nigger kid cunt is so fucking hot!"
   I restrained a laugh at the change.  LJ had been raised by a liberal who
would never under any circumstances say something so politically fucked as
"nigger" about any African American, even a thug pointing a gun at his head
and gesturing for his wallet, watch and rings.  Nice change.
   As LJ slowly began fucking the nigglet, my big hairy hand caressed his
sleek flanks, muscular ass, thumb rubbing down into his crack, over his
hole.  LJ looked over his shoulder, and stopped.  "Gonna fuck my teen
pussy, Unk?"
   I slapped his ass hard, the sound loud in the room.  There was a nice
red mark on his white flesh.  Ignoring Frank, figuring he was unlikely to
deny me the boy cunt he'd been fucking for three years, after all, what the
fuck are best friends for if they can't share kid pussy, I dropped to one
knee at the side of the bed, leaned forward, spread his cheeks and started
tongue fucking his hole.
   It opened right up.  And I could taste his daddy's jizz.  It had been so
many years I couldn't say I remembered the flavor, but it was either
Frank's cum, or he'd been sharing the kid this morning.  Both thoughts were
fucking hot.  But hotter than that was going to be burying my long thick
meat, longer and thicker than Frank's, in the boy's bowels.  I slimed his
pussy lips, dropped spit on my prick, braced my knees on the edge of the
bed, lined my cock up with his hole.  I tapped my leaking knob on obviously
used muscle.  "Your daddy ever just fuck his cock in hard and fast?  Balls
deep?"
   There was a brief silence before LJ nervously said, "Uh, no."
   I smeared some more precum around his hole.  "But you'd like it."
   "Uh...."
   "Even if it hurts."
   More silence, but I knew I'd read LJ right.  I slapped his ass again,
even harder.  And then again.  Frank made no move to "protect" his precious
son from my "brutality." I smirked inside.  Yeah, I knew my best friend. 
I'm sure he could be the kind, considerate, gentle, get her off first lover
with all the women who'd paraded in and out of his bed (or wherever else he
was fucking) after his one, well, two (one suck, one fuck) queer
experiences.  But I'd seen him once when I'd come home early and he was
rough fucking this one night stand like a jackhammer.  And when he was
drunk and sharing he'd let slip some of his interest in rough sex.  So now
he could have a regular supply of it.
   A supply that he could share.
   I made my voice cold as I slapped him again, enjoying the sound,
enjoying the bright red against his pale ass.  "Tell us the truth, LJ. 
Answer the goddamned question."
   "D...daddy's never...."
   "But you wanted him to."
   "Y...yeah."
   "And he will, but Uncle Jack first.  On a three count...."
   Poor LJ.  If he'd had more pedo experiences than just with his loving
dad, who enjoyed rough sex but wouldn't want to hurt his darling boy, he'd
know how often pedos lied.  It was right after the one and right before the
two I didn't bother to say that I fucked him deep and hard.  Christ but a
boy's howl when he's dicked is such a fucking turn on.
   I heard a grunt to my left.  The kind of grunt that says a man has been
gut-punched with lust by the sight or sound of something.  "I bet you twist
your little nips when you're playing with yourself and daddy's not around."
   LJ just kind of whimpered some sort of agreement as my thrusts were
forcing his teen cock into the three year old nigger pussy below him.  It
was my turn to brace myself, lean forward, and while I was starting to get
into a hard rhythm of fucking my first teen boy cunt in a long while (when
there are all those very young little boys to molest at the academy, teen
cock and cunt was not a priority, more of a rarity), use my right hand to
indeed twist his nips.  LJ's moaned, "oh, fuck, yeah," just proved that
when I'm right, I'm fucking right.
   And I was fucking right, in every sense of the phrase.
   Then it was my turn to stop the fucking.  Frank's hand was squeezing my
hairy ass.
   "When you aren't pedo fucking your way through the kid cunt at your
school, and elsewhere, you're a bottom slut, aren't you, John?" he said.
   He'd never said anything before, but obviously he'd picked up on the
fact that during all the years, years ago, when we were sharing good and
bad fuck stories (though he now clearly had to be aware I had a bunch of
pedo fuck stories I'd kept secret), I was far more often the fucked than
the fucker.  And there were still times when I had to pig out, serve a
group of preferably older men and let them abuse me, fuck me, face fuck me,
piss on me.
   My "well, duh" earned me my own ass slap.  One which Frank didn't have
to hold back on, as I obviously had done with LJ.
   I heard Frank spit, felt the glob fall on my own man cunt lips.  Felt
that wide cock knob push at me, felt it move to smear around the large
amount of precum he'd always leaked.
   This setup was going to be awkward as fucking hell.  A three year old
baby nigglet on his belly on a bunch of pillows with four inch white
thirteen year old cock in his cunt, the teen's biggest-dick-in-the-room
uncle's prick buried in his own pussy, and a second later, "daddy's" big
meat repeated my hard/fast/balls deep thrust to bury himself in my bowels.
   My own cunt has been fucked so well so often for so many years that
Frank couldn't get a yelp out of me, much less a scream, but I gave him a
grunt that told him, clear as words, "Aw, fuck, stud, your meat feels so
fucking good inside my pussy."
   Fucking while you're being fucked, especially if the cunt wrapped around
your cock is also connected to a dick in another cunt, never works as well
as the stories lead you to believe.  But it is also so fucking hot, that
when the fuck group is two men, a thirteen year old and a baby nigger, you
make it work.
   Frank was soon pounding my pussy, giving it the kind of hard fucking it
hadn't had in a long time and from my body's reactions, clearly needed,
setting the pace for my fucks into his teen son's talented ass, while the
nigglet cum dump on the bottom took the brunt of it.  Frank was using his
right hand to really hurt my tits, which I fucking loved, and I was doing
the same, though not as rough, with LJ.
   Frank began fucking me harder and faster, moving up the pace.  Breathing
hard, he whispered in my ear, "You thought I was a fucking idiot with all
the naked shit, and letting you see my boy naked and stiff, and me teasing
you with the meat that took your cherry in both your holes, didn't you?"
   All I could do was groan, letting Frank be very much in control.
   "Who's the idiot now?" he shouted as he speared into my man cunt and
blasted the walls with his seed.  Which set me off into his son's cunt, and
I'm fairly sure it was LJ's second, maybe third cum, into Bobby's pussy.
   We all sort of collapsed on one another, panting and heaving, and then
the nigglet whimpered, starting to wake up.  We pulled out of our various
holes and one man (me) and one teen sprawled on the bed.  Frank stood up.
His cock was still hard and almost angry looking.  Slimy from my ass.  He
lifted the nigglet and abruptly told us to move the pillows.  We did and he
laid on his back on the bed, his legs spread, holding the three year old
over his groin.
   It was my hand that held Frank's meat up.  LJ helped position the little
nigger, with jizz and ass juices leaking onto his not-daddy's thick cock
head.  LJ pulled, Frank pushed, both giving gravity some help.  The baby of
the bunch yelled as Frank's knob and at least two inches of wide shaft
shoved up into his boy cunt.  Frank lowered him then, so he was mostly face
down on Frank's belly and chest.
   Frank clearly intended to hold the kid in place with his hands on his
shoulders while he thrust with his hips and I jacked his daddy dick.  LJ
had a better idea.  He got onto the bed, straddled his daddy, forced his
teen meat into the three year old virgin mouth and let his moaning father
get to work eating my cum and his own out of LJ's pussy.  Which left me
jacking Frank's prick.  And a spare hand.  And a renewed hardon.
   Frank grunted loudly into LJ's ass when I worked two sort of slimy
fingers in Frank's hole.  He moaned even more loudly as I kept jacking and
my fingers moved in and out, working his prostate.  In his eagerness to get
his cock into his nigglet cum slut's pussy, Frank hadn't paid attention to
the obvious.  Like his position.  Like his best friend's perpetual hardon.
Like his best friend's enjoyment of payback.
   In fairly short order, Frank's muscular hairy thighs were up and spread
wide, his calves were wrapped around my waist and my cock was balls deep in
his no longer virgin cunt.  I didn't know whether he'd let LJ fuck him
before, but I was going to make sure that happened.  Frank wasn't exactly
totally happy at the moment, not with a dick bigger than his own working
his aching cherry gone ass, but he had his mouth working his teen son's
cunt, his dick working in and out of his three year old nigger boy's pussy
while LJ fucked the toddler's mouth.
   Despite all the cums this was such a fucking turn on, none of us lasted
very long.  Then it was my turn to grunt out, "Who's?  The?  Idiot?  Now?"
as I spooged Frank's pussy for the first but definitely not last time.  He
shouted into his teen aged boy's cunt as he shoved another inch inside the
toddler's hurting cunt and slimed that hole, and LJ filled the nigglet's
mouth to overflowing.
   After that, since we'd gotten all squared away on which idiot was who,
Frank, LJ and I rested.  Until we could get hard again and start a fresh
round of molesting the three year old.  And each other.
   
  
Who's The Idiot Now