A PEDO PRESENT FOR CHRIS(SIE)
(Friday and Saturday)

By DannyR  (MM/b, oral, anal, incest, pedo)
Copyright 2011.  All rights reserved.


Authors Reminder:  Dont forget that inquiring authors want to know -- what did you think?  So when youre 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 didnt 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 were clear on whats what, and whats not, read on.

Special Note:  Thanks to DJ, whose email said this:  Oh man! how I love the pedo fantasy stories of dads and their young sons! God how I love the thoughts of little boy cock and their sweet little boy pussy holes. A daddy who has a 10 year old son he likes to dress up...take him out for all the men to drool over...making him a pretty little girl for all the other pedo daddies...I so love to masturbate having these beautiful fantasies.  Which led to this:

A PEDO PRESENT FOR CHRIS(SIE)
(Friday and Saturday)

FRIDAY

Ideas are like pregnancy.

Really.  They are.

Some ideas, the seed gets planted in your head, and it takes however the fuck long it takes to grow, and then pops out. Others are like that fat lady on the news who didnt know she was pregnant until suddenly shes a fucking blue light special in K-Mart, squatting and dropping the kid in the plumbing aisle.

I had no fucking idea my mind was pregnant! Hell, I didnt even recall it being fucked. But here I am, cash in hand thanks to a quick trip to the ATM, paying the cashier, asking to have them gift wrapped.  And while Im waiting I get some instructions, playing the nervous single dad card to the hilt, wanting to get it just right for his precious childs birthday.

Im hard and aching walking back to the hotel. I figure if I wasnt out of town, if I was back home, this idea would never have happened.  But Im not and it did. Not that anything Ive bought is illegal.  What its for, though, is.  Illegal.  Sick.  Perverted.

Who knew?

I carefully set the bags on the bed. I wasnt planning on going back until tomorrow morning. My business is done but I was still going to stick around, have a fun night on the town, have a few drinks (or twelve), find myself some hot ass and fuck it long and hard. Drive home in the morning, probably hung over, and just resume my regular life. My unsuspected mental pregnancy has changed all that.

I pack my suitcase, strip off my close-the-deal Armani suit and put it in the garment bag.  Change into jeans, one of my favorite pairs of faded, tight 501s, a black tee that shows off my biceps and abs (though Im not some ripped big muscle stud, Ive kept my baseball build from college), black Justin boots. I call the front desk.  Excellent. Erics on duty.  I tell him to just go ahead and charge my company card and email me the receipt. Not something usual, but I spend enough money here to get special service. And Eric has indeed serviced me well from time to time. Its too bad hes on duty, but Ill swing by and drop a tip off for him anyway.

A knock on the door.  A bellman I dont know.  Though its not as if I should. He hooks the garment bag on the bar of the cart, puts the suitcase, laptop bag, and two gift bags on the bottom. A quick final sweep to be sure I havent forgotten anything, then out the door. As we wait for the elevator I catch him sneaking a quick look at me. At the bulge down my left leg, and quickly up and away, looking straight ahead again.

Were the only ones on the elevator.

I sigh. Well, fuck.

Sir?

I shouldve just pissed before I left the room.

Uh?

Hes apparently not used to hotel guests discussing pissing with him. Theres a toilet in the basement, isnt there?

A test.  There is, of course, a mens room on the lower level, all brightly lit and sparkling clean. But theres also a staff toilet in a theoretically non-public area. Two urinals, no dividers, two stalls. A very nice gloryhole.  A place referred to as the toilet in the basement if youre cruising. He passes the test.

Uh, yes, sir, there is. Shall I, uh, show you where it is?

I reach down, squeeze my meat. His eyes naturally follow. He licks his lips.  Oh, I know where it is. I really have to piss, so I think Ill just head down there.  The first is silent but he hears it in my voice.

I, uh, I have to piss, too? He tries to make it a statement but it comes out more of a question.

Ah, I love young near virgins. Like the twenty-ish bellman who is probably wearing boxers since his respectable hardon is visible in his uniform. Hes also forgotten hes on duty, and from the expression on his face he suddenly remembers. So excited hes being hit on by a nice looking older guy with money and hes fucking on duty and cant take advantage of it.

As the elevator doors open and he starts hauling the cart out, I put my arm out to hold the doors, and tell him, Tell Eric you have to show Paul Stilwell where the toilet in the basement is.

His eyes widen, and his mouth drops slightly.  I pull the fifty Id put in my pocket out with my other hand, extend it to him. Give him this with my thanks.

His hand is shaking a little as he takes the bill.  The elevator doors are telling us theyd like to fucking close and get on with business. Well, do you want my cock in one...or both...of your holes or do I look elsewhere?

He shuts his mouth. His eyes are kind of stunned.  At six three, six five in my boots, 180, even with my average looks and goddamnittohell starting to recede hairline at fucking thirty two, I can be somewhat intimidating and downright crude. Like I am now. Its close to noon, and the basement toilet tends to be popular mid-day.  Im not going to have any trouble finding a replacement hole if he flakes out on me.

The joyful look of a queer who knows hes about to get lucky spreads across his face. Id like that. Then alarm. Uh, not you looking elsewhere, uh, the uh, the other....

My cock in your holes?

He flushes again and nods.  I lower my arm and as the elevator doors close I notice how amazingly fast that cart is moving towards the front desk.

Theres already someone there when I walk in.  Latin, thirties, short, heavy, hairy, a white uniform thats already sweaty and dirty. Hes pretending to piss. I step up beside him and haul my hardon out.  Not the dick of death. A nice fat seven and a half inches. Cut. He turns a little so I can see his very fat five or so inches and big balls. His callused hand settles around my prick.

From his expression hes probably used to getting his dick sucked, but when his eyes darted up to mine before he touched me, he clearly got the message that wasnt going to happen. Hes debating whether to use his apparently rusty cocksucking skills when I let him off the hook. Ive got a hole coming in a couple of minutes, I think. If he shows, you want to share?

He nods. I lean back against the wall, unbuckle, unbutton, slide my jeans almost to my knees while he plays with my cock, and then my balls. I put my hand on the back of his head and he gets that message, too.  Theres a price for everything. He leans forward and takes my dick into his mouth. So fucking hot to see my white meat sliding into a dark mouth. Hes not an expert but not bad.

The door opens and he starts to pull away. I dont let him. Its the bellman. Bellboy, really. He looks dismayed that Im giving someone else my dick when Id promised it to him. I reassure him. Hes just getting me wet. I fuck in and out of Latin guys mouth a bit. 

Which hole do you want me to use? I nod down at the slightly greasy haired head bobbing slowly up and down. Our friend here is going to use the other one.

The moment of truth. To be or not to be...a toilet slut.

Typical queer, just like me.  To be wins.  Hands down, cock out.

Bellboy takes off his jacket, hangs it on a convenient hook to one side of the door. Takes off his shoes, gets rid of his uniform trousers, boxers, hangs them up.  Blond, skinny legs, a little furry, six, six and a half inches, tight ball sack, tight little ass. The black socks are kind of a turn on.  Looks at me.  Says, My ass.

Actually he really didnt have a choice since thats what I planned anyway, but I let him think he did. Get three fingers wet and let us see you fuck your pussy.

Christ I love a toilet slut who does what hes told.  Even when its clear that three fingers, as opposed to maybe two and preferably one, is, ah, stretching things.  But I have to get on the road, and as fun as all this is, I really just need a cum to take the edge off. Though with my sex drive and the way my balls refill, I already know Im going to visit at least one rest stop on the trip.  I shove my jeans to my ankles, do the waddle walk thing to get behind him.

He bends, I grip his narrow waist with my left hand, seat my cock knob at his cunt lips, push a little to be sure I dont slip out or up, put my right hand on his waist and shove in.  His pained Oh, fuck! as the knob and the first three inches of shaft slide in is nice. I give him time to get used to it, at least a second, and then he gets the rest. He moans, but thats cut off as Latin guy grabs his hair, lifts his head and shoves his slightly smelly meat, the kind of heady ball sweat aroma and man scent that is such a turn on to most men, down bellboys throat.

We fuck him at both ends without too much unnecessary roughness. Hard enough he cant concentrate on anything but his holes being used by two mostly silent men; certainly not jack himself off.  Im getting close to cumming when the door opens again.

Well fuck.  This time I have two near panic fags.  What kind of queers are these guys if they cant take public sex in stride when theyre in a cruisy toilet and they have to know its likely someone else is going to arrive? Of course, they may be more used to doing this kind of shit through the gloryhole or in one of the stalls, but what the fuck. Just another fag, guys, get over it. I pump faster as the new guy comes up and squeezes my ass.

I smirk at Eric. Kind of figured hed want in on the action. And then Im cumming nine hours worth of cum buildup into bellboys slick, hot tight cunt. I slide out, step back. Eric quickly leans in to clean me up and then steps up to bat. Eric loves sloppy seconds. Thirds. Fourths. Preferably in his own cunt, since he vastly prefers to be a bottom slut.  Unfortunately, so he sometimes says, he has this big-ass fucking dick, like nearly nine inches, which sometimes makes it difficult for him to get used properly, since the size queens, i.e., all fags, tend to want to suck or get fucked by meat that big once he drops trou.  

Latin guys eyes go really wide when he sees the size of Erics meat, and watches it slide into bellboys ass on my slick cum. I leave them using the kid, though I tuck some money in Erics pocket and tell him to share it out. As Im walking down the hall toward the exit back into the hotel proper, the door opens and a well-dressed, suit and tie guy, sixties maybe, slightly nervous, steps through. I smile at the basement toilet virgin who at least knows enough of the right people to be told about the place. He uncertainly smiles back. I put him at ease. Tilt my head toward the toilet door.  Tell him,  Theres a bellboy in there with a really tight pussy, and he could use another cock in his cunt.

The smile becomes a grin as he gropes himself with confidence. Ah, the joys of a fellow lewd businessman about to get sex for lunch.

Nine hours later, Im pulling into my driveway. The way I drive, especially with the turnpike speed officially 75, actually 85, me and the Escalade 90, I would normally have been home an hour or more earlier.  But the time included a blowjob from an old guy at the rest stop about three hours en route, a quick burger and fries at the truck stop at five hours, plus sucking off an extremely horny and nervous jock-type high school senior in the restroom while his mom, younger brother and two sisters waited for him. Part of his nervousness, of course, was because almost as nervous jock-type dad was watching his stud son get a blowjob, knowing that in a minute, which was just about as long as it took the kid to come, his boy was going to see daddys bigger, fatter, hairier dick hard and leaking and getting blown, too. I left them with their spent dicks out, gasping, and eyeing each others meat while trying to pretend they werent. Damn I do good work. Oh, yeah. And fifteen minutes ago I left Hamilton Park after fucking...somebody, too dark to really see much...in the bushes. A little on the plump side, but he sure knew how to use his pussy muscles.

Id called earlier to let Elaine, my regular house-sitter/baby-sitter when I travel, know Id be arriving this evening instead of tomorrow afternoon.  She meets me at the door, helps me get my luggage inside, though Ive left the gift bags in the car. She might recognize the store name.  Shes already told me that as usual, my Christopher has been a polite, well-behaved, obedient little boy.  She returns my keys and she leaves, knowing her fee will be directly transferred into her bank, the full amount, no deduction because shes working a day less. When the door closes behind her, I reset the security system, entering a new password. Its not that I dont trust her, and she clearly has to have the current password while shes taking care of the house and my boy, but I do like my privacy.

I go outside, leaving the porch light off, get the gift bags, bring them inside and after locking them up, put them in the closet in my bedroom. Christopher knows better than to look in the closet when I get back from a trip. The last time he did, after having been told not to (a rare instance of disobedience but he is, after all just ten years old), cost him the present I usually bring back when I come home.  It was a CD of Justin Biebers that he particularly wanted. I gave him the hammer and made him smash it, and then clean it all up and put the pieces in the trash. Im fairly sure he thoroughly has the message not to mess with daddy.

I quietly open his door, as if I truly expect him to be asleep, and step inside.  He might have been asleep since its after ten, but he has some sort of early warning system that wakes him back up when I come in the house.  But his Hi, daddy, I missed you, is kind of sleepy. The light from the hall shows him, as usual, mostly in the middle of the bed. I sit on the edge. Reach out, caress his face. Run my fingers through his just past shoulder length blond hair. Lean over to kiss his forehead. He lifts his slender, tanned, muscular arms to give me a hug. I hug him back.

Am I really going to do this?

Fuck, yeah.

Daddys going to kiss you goodnight again, Christopher.  Currently we are in a call me Christopher, dad, thats my name, not Chris phase. Hed generally been Chris (Christopher Charles Stilwell! if hed been bad) until a few months ago.

Okay, dad. Such a soft, trusting voice.  Would it still be that way after tomorrow?

This is a special daddy-son kiss, Christopher. Something just for you and me.  A part of me notes that that isnt quite true, but hes not going to find that out just yet.

My lips are not plump, certainly not cocksucker lips, but theyre broader than little Christophers. Im not sure hes ever going to have my height, and most of his coloring and his small mouth and thin lips come from my ex. We have kissed on the lips before, but just light little pecks. This time I cover his mouth with mine, holding his head so he cant move away. He doesnt. My little one just stays very, very still for a moment, like hes unsure, but then his lips press back. 

I lift my head just a fraction of an inch, say softly, Open for me, baby boy, open your mouth for daddy.

His eyes widen just slightly as he realizes Ive never referred to myself as daddy before.  Always just dad.  Then he opens his mouths. My thick daddy tongue invades his tiny mouth, forcing it to open wider, probably wider than he ever has. Well, except when hes working on a Fudgesicle, which is, after all, about three of daddys fingers wide. Hes hesitant again, but starts moving his tongue against mine. I let him inside my mouth, feel his boy tongue caressing mine, my teeth, the flesh inside my mouth. I am so fucking hard.  A toilet fuck, a rest stop blowjob, a park fuck in about nine hours and Im hard again.

Still holding his head as we exchange spit, I moan just a little and little Christopher moans back, more of a whimper. Is he hard? Does he have a stiffie, too, like his daddy? My left hand moves down his body. Like his daddy he sleeps bare. His nips are so tiny, but theyre pointed, and when I lightly graze a finger tip over one my boy whimpers again and arches his back.

I move my hand under the covers, then roughly push them off so they just cover his slender feet. Im going slow, giving him time.  So he can say no if he wants to. Not that a no would actually work, but then he doesnt know that. As I reach his precious hairless groin, he has to know, understand, that this is the kind of bad touch his teachers and the pastor warn him about. As daddys big callused hand closes over his little boy stiffie, fondling what has to be no more than two uncut inches, fingers caressing his tiny nut bag, is he confused? But he doesnt object. Just moans even louder in my mouth.

I use my thumb and forefinger to start jacking his pricklet. Lift my head to tell him, Daddys going to make you feel really good, baby boy.

He must be feeling good, since he doesnt vigorously object to being called a baby, just says, Okay, dad.

We continue our mutual tongue fucking as I stroke him steadily, then begin moving faster. He starts whimpering and moving his head. I let him go, let him lay his head back on the pillow. His feet thrash and kick off the sheet so my boy is gloriously naked. I slide off the side, on my knees, leaning over the edge, my own jeans covered hardon pressing against the side of the bed. I play with his tits, flicking them, touching them, tell him to suck on daddys finger, put one hairy digit down into his mouth, into his throat, he takes it all, his tongue working and slobbering and getting it slimy. I put a second finger in and jack him harder, grinding my own boner against the bed.

Christ, I have two fingers down the throat of my not quite virgin ten year old son, Im jacking him off, Im telling him to cum for daddy, to cum really hard for daddy, and he suddenly goes crazy, like hes been hit with an electric charge, his arms and legs shaking, his head whipping back and forth as I take my fingers out and he screams out loud and long, Daaaaaaadddddddyyyyyyyyy!  He collapses backwards. My precious sated, thoroughly sexed little boy.

When he recovers he opens those beautiful eyes, such a gorgeous green, with such long, thick lashes. He asks, D...daddy, do you want me to.... He pauses, clearly not sure what to call what has just happened. My Christopher is so smart. He knows his daddy has a penis, too. God knows hes seen it often enough since were generally naked around the house, and hes seen my morning wood, just like Ive seen his. But this...this is the first time for this. But hes figured out that if I gave him so much pleasure with my hand on his peepee (and tweaking his tits and finger fucking his mouth) then he could probably do the same for me, and the only fair thing was to offer.

I lean over, cut off his sweet offer with my mouth on his. This time he opens immediately, though his tongue is not so much tentative as just a little tired. Poor lil fella. Such a violent first dry cum. He whimpers when I touch his soft little boy dick. Huh. Sensitive after cumming, like his daddy. A quick recover, too. Like his daddy. Probably quicker given hes only ten. He writhes a little as I fondle his renewed stiffie, his tight little ball sack, and as I move a finger down to his taint he instinctively spreads his legs for his daddy. Such a good little boy.

Should I let him see his daddys meat now? Get a hint of whats coming in every spelling of the word? Will he be frightened?

I have never before frightened my boy, made him afraid of me for any reason. Oh, sure, he knows better than to disobey, but does it even so.  He is, after all, just a boy. Hes never been afraid even when hes had to be spanked, even when it escalated to bare bottom. But the idea of nervousness, uncertainty, and, well, fuck, yeah, fear in his beautiful eyes suddenly makes the precum spurt.

I break the kiss, stand up, look down on my sprawled boy, his glorious hair spread wide across the pillow. His mouth drops open and his eyes widen as I unbutton and shove my jeans down and then hop foot to foot to peel them off. Naked, hard, dripping, I tower over him and indeed there is something new in his eyes when he looks up at his huge horny daddy. Awe over his daddys huge meat, though he doesnt know there are bigger dicks out there, ones Im sure hell become acquainted with. Very well acquainted. Soon. But not right now. Now is for me.

I gesture. He scoots over. I get on the bed, straddle his small body. Hes ten but more the size of an eight year old. A small eight year old. Just four feet tall. His weight equals his height. I should have picked someone taller than Shelly, I guess, to breed, but since I was freaking drunk at a party, more of an orgy, actually, and an equally drunk older man with a huge cock sucked me hard again, got pissed when I wouldnt bottom, crawled away and left my meat to her tender, well, not-so, mercies. A womans cunt is nowhere near as tight and hot as a guys, but a hole is a hole is a hole when youre horny and too drunk/lazy to get your ass up and roam the place, hardon sticking out, to find the right hole. Given the number of men the bitch fucked that night, my swimmers had to be the ones that worked.

I figure she tried most of the other guys she fucked that night, if she could even find them, gave them the old You got me pregnant, you bastard! bit. Apparently they all told her to fuck off, but when she got to me, I didnt think the odds were good, but if it was my kid, it was my kid. DNA told me I was a daddy.  So I bought the bitch off as soon as he was born. Gave her fifty grand to sign over parental rights, paid the medical bills, gave her a grand a month for twenty-five months to help her get started in life, and had her sign a nice unbreakable agreement properly in writing. Im such a nice guy I even got her her own freaking independent lawyer to advise her of her rightsa defense attorney who I publicly hated, privately fucked frequently. She paid him two grand out of her fifty so my wicked money didnt taint the process.  I paid him ten grand under the table, and threw in a bonus rough, okay, fucking brutal, up against the wall fuck in the mens room of his law office the day we signed, to make sure that between the two of us shed never be able to change her mind.

Ten years of loving and caring for my son, never once thinking of doing any of this. Not what weve just finished, not what Im about to do right now, now what is going to happen tomorrow with his presents. All day tomorrow, probably. Okay, so Ive read incest stories on Nifty and elsewhere, and cum to them. Hell, Ive even read some of those really perverted stories by that DannyR guy. What a sicko. But Im not that, never have been. Except....

Wow. Mental mirror time. Yep, thats my face. Hello, sicko freak.

I straddle my boy, not putting any weight on him, watch his wide eyes as I slide back the inch or so of foreskin that hangs down when Im soft, letting him see the wet, shiny, reddish knob on his daddys dick. His mouth is wide, too, as I fist my meat. I raise up, tell him to lift his head, put my large hand behind it, fingers in that thick, soft hair, hold him in place. Jack faster. Tell him to open wider, to stick out his tongue. Keep back all the obscenities I want to spew about what a slut he looks like, and then Im freaking cumming and cumming hard, the first couple of big spurts landing right on his tongue, making several large globs, the rest spritzing his face, which scrunches up when the hot wet goo lands near his left eye. I dont think he planned on it, but his mouth snaps shut with the scrunch, and he swallows.

Thats a good boy, Christopher, I praise him. Swallow down daddys milk.

My kid rolls his eyes as he does when daddys being dumb. Semen, dad. Ah, there speaks the kid who probably scored a hundred in his sex ed class. The class that taught him never, never, ever, ever let a man do what Id just done.

I let him see a brief smile, and then say to him, with a slight edge to my voice, But its daddys milk when we do this, isnt it, Christopher?  It wasnt my full on, top of the line lawyer version of Dont fuck with me, boys tone that works so well in my chosen profession. More of a softer, kinder, dont piss me off, daddy tone.

As usual, it works. He nods and then what Ive said hits him. I still hold the back of his head, and he looks up at me, his so very beautiful face spattered with my seed. Are...are we gonna do this again?

I try not to lie to my boy, even though thats at the heart of what I do. But truth, glorious truth, is just fine right now. Yes, son, we are.

His face looks troubled. Fucking sex ed class. Though before my epiphany last night, and my shopping spree, I would have rejoiced to know hed paid attention to all that (now stupid) shit about bad touches, and telling someone soon, especially if its your daddy doing the touching. Or uncle, or grandfather, or the pervert in the park.

You liked how daddy made you feel, didnt you?

A nod.

Youve never felt so good, have you?

A head shake.

You like doing things to help daddy, dont you?

Nod.

To help make daddy feel good when hes had a bad day at work.

A nod. Though we both knew that his contributions in the past have been making me the perfect martini, up to three if the day was really a bitch from hell, and hugging me, and telling me about his day while we eat, and then being very quiet and unobtrusive until Id wound down.

I use my right finger to scoop up some of the goo, put my finger to his lips and he opens them almost in a trance, sucks my finger clean since thats obviously what his daddy wants. Repeat and repeat until his face is not quite clean, but the globs are gone.

So, just between you and me, and no one else, you make me feel good and daddy makes you feel good.  Right?

He nods again. Just the tiniest bit of worry in his eyes. My kid is no dummy. At least he takes after me in that much. He understands the difference between what I just said and what just happened.  From now on, pleasing daddy is first, daddy pleasing him is second, and he clearly understands that if he doesnt do a good job pleasing daddy, well, he might not be pleased at all with what happens next.

I get off the bed, tell him to get up, too. Take him into the bathroom. Start the shower running. Even after what weve just done, hes reluctant to get in the shower with me. After all, hes a big boy and hes been bathing himself for some years now. When I tell him it would please me, he gets the message and steps in. We each get ourselves wet and then I stand with my back to the showerhead, the hot, steamy water pounding down on my back. I tell my darling son, his long hair plastered to his skull and the side of his head, his neck and shoulders, to get on his knees. He looks warily at my still plumped prick, but does as hes told.

It pleases me to piss on my son. To see the shock and disgust on his face as the raunchy, smelly liquid rains down on him, coating his drooping pricklet and balls, then up to his belly, his tits, his face. He shakes his head, and clamps his lips tight when hes told to open. My turn to clamp...cutting off the remaining piss. Even telling him it would make me very happy for him to open his mouth doesnt work. I slap him. Not as hard as I can, of course, Christ, I out weigh him by a hundred thirty pounds. His mouth drops open. Ive never slapped him before. But he needs to understand, clearly, that things have changed. Changed fucking forever.

Hes fallen to his side, one hand resting on the tiled floor of the shower, one on his cheek, tears in his eyes. I tell him to get back on his knees, and he does. I explain carefully, clearly, that I had only intended to give him a little taste before of the other type of daddys juices, but little boys mustnt disrespect their daddies. So now Im going to put the knob end of my dick in his mouth, and he is going to clamp his lips down around it, and he is going to swallow every fucking drop. No or else is said. He understands.

So fucking hot to have my little boy on his knees gulping down my stinking piss.

I finish, let him get up, then carefully, lovingly wash his beautiful body, wash his hair, massaging his scalp, lovingly caress him, and murmur soft words of praise. He relaxes. He gets another stiffie, which confuses the hell out of him.

Fucking fine.

I dry him off, paying special attention to that hard pricklet, then surprise him again by picking him up and carrying him to my bed. I put him on his back, his thick hair splayed out on the pillow, his legs sort of sprawled open. I think of how hot hell look on his back, but with his legs up and my cock punching his cunt. I smile tenderly. He nervously smiles back, since he still has a boy stiffie and daddys meat is hard again.

I get into bed beside him, pull the sheet over us, pull him close, cuddle him. Reach down between his legs, doing that bad touch thing again that gives him so much pleasure, and stroke his tiny pricklet until he explodes in another dry orgasm, and rests, gasping and heaving in my arms.

Hardon or not, I kiss his forehead. Assure him his daddy loves him. Remind him he has presents to look at in the morning. His eyes light up. Mostly its just present singular. He falls asleep with an eager smile on his face.

SATURDAY

In the morning, we take our morning wood to the bathroom, piss side-by-side into the bowl. Not something weve done before, but he needs to get used to it. Nervous again, worrying whether hell have to drink my smelly liquid again. He will, of course, just not this morning.  I tell him to go to his room and wait just a few minutes. I want to lay his presents out. He starts to put his robe on, but I tell him no, and after a slight hesitation he scampers down the hall.

I carefully lay his presents out on my bed after smoothing the covers over.  He gets all nervous again when I come into his room and tell him to shut his eyes so it can be a real surprise. Not about the shutting his eyes, Ive had him do that before, but like I said, my boy is bright and hes clearly wondering why daddy is still so hard.

I get him into position beside the bed, tilt his head down just slightly so hes looking directly at my gifts, step aside so I can get the full impact.

Look at your new clothes, Chris.

Theres this bright smile that starts on his lips as he opens his eyes, and then the smile fades and his mouth drops and he goes into a kind of shock.

He really, really, really wasnt expecting a pale yellow sundress.

With short sleeves and little bows of yellow and white, even more pale yellow ankle socks, and white Mary Janes with yellow bows. Dark gold barettes.  Or the outfit beside it that might have come right out of a catalog for Catholic girls school uniforms. Or the outfit beside that in a delicate blue that goes so well with his coloring.

Those are girls clothes! he almost shouts, his dismay and anger and fear all mixed up in his voice.

Yes, Chris, they are. Arent they beautiful?

Those are girls clothes, he tells me again, in that tone we all get when were talking to a dumb shit too stupid to understand whats going on.

I let him get away with his impertinence, but my face tells him Im doing it, and Im not gong to tolerate much more.

Were going to play dress-up, Chris. Early Halloween. His eyes want to say its summer, Halloween is months away, and he wouldnt be caught dead going trick or treating dressed as a girl.  You want to please daddy, dont you?  And this would make daddy really happy.

Ah.  At last he realizes the change. Up to now, well, last night and this morning, Ive always been dad.  That manly name for a son to use to his father. But now Im calling myself daddy and he realizes thats really something that a little girl would call her father.

You do, dont you? I ask my boy. Want to please daddy?

He has no choice except to nod, and say, Yes... but then he pauses and my oh-so-bright boy changes the sir he would normally have used to daddy.

I sit on the edge of the bed, my hairy legs wide, my thick hairy hardon straight up and leaking steadily. I gesture and he moves close. I open the tissue paper covered package next to the sundress, pull out a pair of bright, lemon yellow panties. He cringes but still puts his hand on my shoulder to balance as I lean over, and hold them so he can step in.

I pull them up across his lean thighs, up over his firm, but still a little plump, butt. They fit perfectly. I adjust his drooping pricklet so its straight up toward his belly button. Caress the shiny satin over his crotch until he gets hard again. The dress is next. Down over his head. A little jiggling and twisting to get his arms properly through the little sleeves. I turn him around, button up the back, tie the yellow and white patterned sash into a nice bow in the back. Turn him around. Lift a few strands of hair that got caught in the collar. Tilt his head up toward me with a finger under his chin.

Beautiful. So fucking beautiful.

Especially with the glistening eyes.

I open the next bag and my dear boy begs, No, dad, please, please, please dont do this.

He doesnt like the idea of wearing makeup for some reason. My expression confirms he has no choice. I dont put a lot on this first time, just some lip gloss to make his lips shiny, wet looking. A little blush on his cheeks. A little work on the eyes to make them stand out even more. I make him sit next to me for a moment to put on the ankle socks and the Mary Janes that go with this outfit.

I get up, stand in front of him, my leaking cock pointing right at him. Unconsciously, he licks his lips, almost leans forward as if hes going to lick my knob, but makes himself stop. I hold out my hand, he takes it, stands up, too. We walk to the eight foot tall mirror on my wall.

Naked, six-three, hairy, horny, hard dad, standing next to a stunningly gorgeous...little girl. My sons mouth drops open at the sight.

And then clamps shut as the implications begin to catch up with him. Hes never been overtly effeminate, but his slender build and his stubbornly grown long hair have often led to the from-behind mistakes about gender, sometimes even front view mistakes, despite his always wearing unquestionably masculine looking clothes.  There were some unpleasant incidents early on in grade school, some bullying, verbal and physical. I put a stop to that.

Principal Howard is something of a wimp as far as Im concerned, but given my name, my money, my firm, and my reputation as a lawyer you dont ever fuck with, he didnt give me any bullshit responses, just dealt with the little bastards who had it in for my boy. I made sure the worst offender was expelled. No second chances for that little shit.

Im sure the mutterings still go on, but not openly. And the fact that Chris is amazingly talented at soccer, and has been instrumental in many, many victories for the teams he plays on, has also helped cut back on the sissy fag remarks. But now he sees himself in the mirror, sees what a sissy boy he is. A tear slides down his left cheek.

I drop to my knees, turn him to me, use my thumb to carefully wipe the tear away. My large hands cup his face, my fingers deep in his hair.

You are so fucking beautiful...Christine.

No! My name is Christopher! He struggles but I just squeeze a little and he realizes he cant get away.

No, my darling girl, your name is Christine.  Whenever you dress like this.

Stubborn, stubborn boy. I wonder where he gets it from. I wont dress like this. Not again.

I lower my head to his, kiss him hard, forcing his mouth open to be raped by my tongue. He shudders at the assault, finally surrendering and kissing me back. My left hand holds his head, my right hand wanders down to his left ankle, just above the delicate sock, roams upward over his smooth bare flesh, up under his dress, until I fondle and squeeze his ass cheeks.

I break the kiss. His expression is forlorn, though his breathing is ragged and his lips are puffy.  Wh...why, daddy?

I so rarely need to tell the truth in my profession, dont even really need to now, but I tell him anyway.  I saw a little girl in Chicago, Chrissie. Well, at least I think she was a little girl, she could have been just a sissy boy like you, all dressed up with her daddy. Or maybe her pimp.  Shiny open toed black spike heels, black mesh hose, a tiny, tiny black skirt, a ruffled white blouse, all made up like for a pageant or something. Bright red polish on her fingers and toes. Or maybe they were going to a brothel, I had no way of knowing what he was going to do with her.

I shrug.

You see, Chrissie, she looked just like you.  Could have been your twin, if you were dressed the same way. And while I didnt know what the man had in mind, I knew my own mind. I saw her and I thought, I could fuck that.

And I got a hardon, a very visible hardon, right there on the street from looking at a little girl who looked like a very young slut. Which the man noticed. He looked up at me, then flicked his eyes down at my cock, then looked at the little girl. He caressed her face, rubbed his thumb over her lower lip briefly and I saw her tongue flick out to it. Brazen little thing doing that in public. Then he looked at me, and mouthed, Sorry. No time, gave me a slight shrug and went on his way.

I went to an adult bookstore then, planning on just jacking off in a booth, but there was this young Asian, with long black hair, and I took him into the booth with me. Do you know how men fuck, Chrissie?

I...uh, ah....

One man, the top, puts his dick in the bottoms mouth and fucks in and out until he comes. Or he shoves his prick inside the bottoms ass and gets off that way. And you know what I was thinking about the whole time I was ramming my cock in and out of Asian guys hot tight ass, slammed up against the wall, with his cock through the gloryhole and hopefully someone sucking it for him?  I was thinking what fun it would be to be doing that with that little girl, or even better, with you.

Bend over the bed, Chrissie.

Tears again in his eyes as he understands what is about to happen, begs me not to do it, recognizes the decision-made-no-changes expression on my face, does what he is told. His head is down, glorious hair concealing his face, and I can hear the sobs he cant manage to stop. I pull his yellow panties down, kneel, pull on his cheeks, get my first close-up look at my boys virgin pussy hole. A perfect pink pucker. I wonder how red and raw it will be when Im done taking her cherry. As I lean over and lick and slurp, getting it wet since I like spit fucks, teasing the little hole open, I think about Erics cunt. Hes been fucked so often his cunt lips are thick and reddish-brown, instant advertising to anyone who sees them or even touches them that this is a well-used channel. I wonder how soon I can get Chrissies pussy in the same condition. Such a fucking hot contrast. A demure, well-dressed little girl on an outing with her daddy, clearly a friendly virgin child, but under that dress is a well-fucked kid cunt.

I slime two fingers with my own spit, put one tip on top of the other, force my way into her hole. My left hand on her shoulder keeps her from moving away from me. I enjoy the sight of two fingers in my kids cunt up to the second knuckle. Then theyre all the way in. I wiggle them, spread them, making my boy/girl whine, then slide them out, swallow them down, enjoying my first taste of a little boys pussy juices. Two more deep strokes of two fingers, scissoring them, then out and adding a third to the accompaniment of a scream. Three fingers, three strokes, then Im dropping slime on my own meat, getting it good and wet. After all, I dont want to ruin my kids cunt. I have plans for it today.

Guiding my meat with one hand, forcing him back with the other, my cock punches through his tight cunt lips. His howl wont shatter glass or anything, but its still good the house is large, the acreage extensive, so there are no neighbors to hear his virginity being lost. I hock some more spit on the shaft, and force my way all the way in. In my best, most loving, daddy raping his boy dressed as a girl voice, I explain that the pain will go away, if not before his first fuck is over, then...eventually.

This is my own virgin kid fuck. Boy fuck. Girlie-boy fuck. I know it isnt going to last, that Im going to blow my wad and breed my boys pussy soon, but it doesnt matter. I have years of leisurely fucks, sweet fucks, rough fucks, fast fucks, brutal fucks, ahead of me. I briefly power fuck my boy to the music of his sobs and four or five balls-deep strokes later Im spewing my seed. I hold my cock deep in his ravaged cunt as I recover my breath, then slide out. I drop back to look at his hole. Yes, red and inflamed, puffy, the tiniest bit bloody, too. Just like what should happen with a virgin.

I stand, pad over to the nightstand, get some tissues, come back to him. Theyre not for his cunt, though. I tell him to pull his panties up, stand up, wipe his eyes. He nervously follows orders, almost losing his balance, but regaining it.

I hold out my hand and after a slight hesitation he takes it.  Cmon, kiddo, lets get you some breakfast. We have a busy day.

His expression tells me how odd it feels to be dressed this way, to have just been fucked by his daddy, and then to be walking downstairs, holding his naked daddys hand, as we walk downstairs to the kitchen.

She sits gingerly on the chair. What a surprise. I fix us both our usual Saturday morning special, bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese and onions, toast and jelly, juice and milk. I get a surprise as we eat.

On previous Saturdays, particularly ones with a game or practice, Chris the athlete chowed down like any ten year old boy, inhaling his food so quickly I frequently had to tell him to slow the fuck down. But now, Chrissie is eating slowly, carefully, precisely...daintily. And he...she...isnt even aware shes doing it.

A bit of red raspberry jam lodges at the corner of her mouth. When her delicate pink tongue cant quite lick it all up, she lifts her hand, gets the blob on the tip of her finger and sucks it right off. Only she doesnt put just the jam covered tip in, she sucks the whole finger.

Im hard again. I hadnt planned...but plans change. I was hard. I stand and her eyes widen. Chrissie, daddy needs to fuck you again.  She blinks, but says nothing. Here in the kitchen. How do you think you should be fucked?

He isnt quite successful in hiding his dismay. Dismay because hes going to get fucked again, but also dismay because he realizes what Im doing. Upstairs, he had no choice. He could tell himself his mean daddy raped him. But now, well, now he is cooperating. He is deciding to let his daddy fuck him. A tear escapes but we both ignore it.

B...bent over my chair?

An awkward position, given the height difference. But putting him on his back on the table, his little legs in their frilly socks and Mary Janes over my shoulders would mess up his pretty new dress. Later on, when he has more dresses, that wont matter, but right now his wardrobe is quite limited. Ill save a kitchen table fuck for later.

Very good, Chrissie. Now get in position, pull your panties down to the floor, and flip your dress up, so daddy can admire your hot little pussy. My precious girlie-boy does as he is told, though with a blush. 

I squat and indeed admire his freshly fucked hole. But Im not certain two loads of my cum, seed-meister though I am, will be enough. I grab whats left of the stick of butter and rub it over his hole and then on my meat. I quickly wash my hands as I dont want her dress stained, though her panties are another story.

Getting inside Chrissies tight twat is as difficult as I thought it might be, which of course makes the process all the more enjoyable.  Just a single loud daddy! this time, followed by groans and grunts as I get my meat well up inside. Having gotten the edge off I can fuck for a long time, a really long time if I put my mind to it, but that would interfere with my plans. I set up a steady pace, sliding full length in and out of her cum and butter lubed cunt, changing angles and speeds until I find the boy button inside her, and then go on tormenting it, over and over until she begins to shiver and shake in a nice dry cum, and I allow myself to go over the edge and breed her.

When Im through pumping seed, I slide out, tell her to get herself together again, because as soon as daddy is dressed were going to Hamilton Park.

His/her But, daddy.... trails off. I know why shes upset. Chris frequently spends time in Hamilton Park, playing with his friends, and dressed like this, if anyone sees him, hed be subjected to never-ending humiliation. I carefully reassure him that we wont be going to his usual places; that were going to the northwest corner.

That mouth dropping open is so cute. It will be even better when shes doing it in preparation for having it filled with cock, but surprise is good, too. She clearly knows about that area of the park, where good little boys and girls never go, because its clearly marked on school maps, Here there be perverts with bad touching.

She follows me back upstairs to my bedroom, where I pull a tight tee over my head, and pull on an equally tight pair of well-worn button fly jeans, arranging my twice-fucked, beginning to smell raunchy cock down my left leg. I slipped on a pair of flip-flops, so if I need to quickly get in or out of my jeans, I dont have to fool with socks and trainers or boots.

I have her sit on the bed again as I freshen up her make-up, making it just the slightest bit over the top, including red lipstick. She wants to yank her hands away when I paint her nails bright red, but doesnt. When the nails are dry we stand side by side again in front of the mirror. Yes, just the right look for this first time.

Chrissie, you remember that little girl I told you about? The one who looked like she might be a beautiful little whore?

She blushes and just nods.

Well, the more I thought about it after she and her daddy left, especially his hardon, Im sure he was stiff because he was going to whore her out to some men, maybe his friends, maybe strangers, and he was going to get to watch.

My Chrissie is so bright. I watch her face in the mirror and I can see she understands where Im going.

Im not hard now, because Im all fucked out from your pussy, but Ill be stiff soon, thinking about doing that to you.

I...Im gonna be a whore, daddy?

Oh yes, little girl, youre going to be a wonderful whore for daddy.

But we dont nee.... she starts to wail, and then cuts himself off.  She was clearly going to say that we dont need the money, and indeed, we dont. I am a very successful shark. But she shows herself to be my blood when her expression says she recalls the fact you can never have too much money, you can always find room for more wherever you store it, or more ways to spend it as well.

I take her hand, lead her to the Mercedes. Our ride to the park is silent, though I wonder if her cunt is leaking, if there will be a wet spot on the seat when she gets up, if I will have to hold her head down and make her lick it clean. When we arrive there are only a few cars parked in the lot closest to the cruising area. Ive always thought the designers of the park must have been queer, to plan this area so well.

I park, get out of the car, realize that Chrissie is either frightened, or waiting like a well-brought-up little girl for her door to be opened. I hope its both. As she daintily steps out, unconsciously pointing the toe of her shoe so that the long slim line of her legs can be seen, I make her turn around and lean into the car, step behind her so even if someone is watching they cant see what Im doing.  Which is to reach up under her skirt and use my finger to push the panties up inside her pussy just a little and then pull them back out so that theres no question about the stain.

As we cross the lot and step between the two large bushes that not quite cover the start of a particularly popular trail, I tell her that I might not be whoring her today, I might just be giving free samples away, so theyll know how good the merchandise is when theyre asked to pay later. I make sure she understands she is to do what she is told, without question, without argument.

We walk a bit without seeing anyone, and then....

 Hello, Albert.

The old man looks back and forth between me and Chrissie. Hes eighty, I think. Nearly bald with a few wisps of hair left.  Rimless glasses, blue eyes.  Average height, average weight, wrinkled, sagging skin. His age-spotted right hand is holding the thick six-incher thrust out of his flies, pulling the foreskin back over the bright red head of his cock as he watches us approach, wide-eyed.

He cruises this park, or rather, this part of the park often. Queers or breeders who just want to get their rocks off are generally pretty cruel to a man whose days of being pretty and sleek, if he had even ever had such days, were long, long gone, so he doesnt get much action. But Christ hes such a good cocksucker. He once confided to me, still on his knees after Id soaked his throat with seed and complimented him on his skill, that hed had seventy years to perfect it. I did the math, which, fortunately, was pretty damn simple.  Hed been nine or ten the first time he sucked dick.

Just the age of little Chrissie by my side.

He nods, says, Paul, in greeting but his eyes are on the gorgeous little girl beside me. It doesnt take a genius to figure out his mind is asking him why the hell a man like me, who cruises the park to get a blowjob or occasionally fuck some ass shoved up against a tree or just bent over and braced, is bringing a fucking girl around?

Id like you to meet my niece, Christine. We call her Chrissie.

Shes still wearing the pale yellow sundress I put on her earlier. Same outfit. Refreshed makeup. And bright, bright red polish on her fingernails. Somehow the whole look has become a bit whorish.  My little slut here has never sucked a mans cock, Albert.

Sh...she hasnt? The old man moans and squeezes his cock. He looks nervous for some reason.  Christ, he regularly cruises this park, he stands just off the trail, out in the open, his aged prick out and being jacked, but hes nervous about a little girl?  

Well, there is that whole pedo in public thing, I guess.

Would you like to have her mouth cherry? Ive jacked off into her mouth, so she knows what cum tastes like. And Ive pissed her mouth, too. But Im training her to be a whore, and decided I want to see another man be the very first one to fuck her face. Would you like that, Albert?

A louder moan and a vigorous head nod.  He looks around and I know his next line is going to be to ask where we can go. Somewhere more private, where other cruising queers arent quite so likely to show up and see him being a pedo perv.  Wrong.  Here, now, out in the open.  I tell him.

Decisions, decisions. All gods chillun got fucking decisions.

Ever had an eight year old virgin?

Ah, and doesnt that fucking tilt the scales? Younger even than when some man molested him, and now in the twilight of his life, when the suns practically fucking set, he gets to molest a virgin eight year old hole?  Ten, really, but he doesnt need to know that.

Chrissie looks up at me, his/her eyes saying he/she really, really doesnt want to do this, begging me not to make him. Her shoulders slump when she realizes she has no choice. She moves the few steps needed to bring him in front of the old man. Drops to her knees. Winces and gasps when the right one encounters a rock or something, lifts her leg, flashing her lemon yellow panties to anyone laying on the grass or in the bushes behind the old man, gets rid of the rock.

She doesnt do anything, which is something Ill have to train him out of. Unless hes pretending to be a virgin, something hes not going to be at all much longer, I figure a kid cum whore needs to know what the little he/she wants, or what shes been trained to want, and fucking go for it.

Albert buries his shaking hands in her thick hair, raises her head, looks at me.

I have my own impressive meat out now, jacking. Fuck her slutty face, Albert, make Chrissie into the little cum whore she wants and needs to be.

Were in bright sunlight, just a few feet off a well-trod path through this part of the woods. Definitely not a family part of the park, somehow the moms know to keep the family away, unless the dads sneak off for a quick blowjob or fuck. But all the men who are out cruising at this time of day, meandering through the woods, the toilets, the trails, the bushes, anyone could come along and see the two of us, not having adult sex, but molesting a little girl.

Fucking hot.

Albert thrusts his thin dick forward and Chrissie opens her mouth to take it in. Albert moans in joy. Chrissie grimaces but starts working his knob and pee lips and shaft with her tongue. So fucking hot. Then it gets even more perverted.

No idea where the thought comes from.

You ever get fucked, grampa? My voice is curt, suddenly.

The old man looks up from his concentration on burying his aged meat down Chrissies throat, then sliding it out again.  He nods. Sucked my first dick when I was nine, got my cherry busted by the butcher at ten. Been a bottom ever since, except.... He sort of drifts off with an odd look.

Except? I prompt.

He pauses like hes not sure hes going to tell me, and then he decides. About a year ago, in the woods by the soccer field toilet. I fucked a six year old boy and his eight year old brother, while the two men with them took turns fucking me.

Hot fucking damn.  The old pedo.  I guessed right.

He looks at me as I continue jacking. No mercy.

Wha...? And then I get it.  When he was young, younger, youngest hed been popular and well fucked, but then age and more age and more age hit and few were interested. But hes too proud to take a mercy fuck, a pity fuck.

I grin wickedly at him, wipe my copious precum onto my palm, give it to him to lick. I move behind him. Chrissie, get your grampas slacks open and pull his undies down. Uncle wants to fuck his daddy.

The old man moans and pauses his face fucking while Chrissie obeys. Is his aging, sagging, pale white, blue-veined, hairy flesh the same kind of turn on as Chrissies golden smooth taut skin? Of course the fuck not, but I think of all the men who must have used this hole, how talented it is, how well trained.

I kneel behind Grampa Albert and spread his wrinkled cheeks and bury my face in his ass, licking and slurping to get his cunt wet, opening it with one, then two, then three spit-soaked fingers. Stand up, bend my knees to get in position, slide the fuck in. Damn fuck damn. My instincts were right.  It is a talented hole, warm and tight and squeezing and caressing my dick on each stroke.  Oh, Christ, this is so fucking hot.  My lawyer dick is fucking a sleazy old man who trolls for meat in the park, while hes face fucking my precious son, dressed like a little girl. 

I grab the old mans shoulders and start pounding his ass with my bare meat.  Somehow he does both of us and does both of us well, now gripping Chrissies head tight, holding her motionless while he ruthlessly fucks her no longer virgin mouth, ignoring her struggles. I lean forward, whisper in his ear, tell him its really an eight year old boy virgin hes molesting.  

Sweet fucking Jesus! he breathes out, and then from the clamping and releasing of the old mans cunt muscles hes dumping his load into my boys well-fucked little mouth. The first old man, the first man, of many more to cum. I have a twinge of regret that I didnt figure this out when he was four or five. Years lost. But maybe I can find other pedos, pedos with kids, grandkids and maybe my little boy/girl slut wont be too old for me to trade for some really young stuff. And then its my turn to unload in a tight, talented pussy.

Albert has just released Chrissies head and shes collapsed back on her butt, gasping, choking, a white cum froth at the corners of her mouth. Fuck, but the old man mustve unloaded the last ten years of cum into her mouth cunt. Im starting to slide my meat out of the old mans ass when we hear a steady clap-clap-clap of someones hands. Were caught.

And its Chrissies...Chris...fucking soccer coach!  The head coach at St. Pius High School, who volunteers to coach the youngsters in Chris/Chrissies age range in the municipal league. The one whos always praising the boy, telling him, me, how much natural talent he has. And it doesnt matter if hes here trolling for a queer to suck him, he can easily turn us all in to the cops.

Pretty, he says and with that one word we know were not headed for jail.

He strolls up, nonchalant like its an ordinary walk in the park to come across a little girl sucking a very old mans dick while a man you know fucks the old mans ass. He bends forward, holds out his hand. Chrissie takes hold and lets him help her up. Her eyes widen at the bulge down his right thigh under the tight faded jeans. So do mine. I wonder if we can pull this off. Get the fuck out of here before he realizes who Chrissie really is.

So not gonna happen.

And whos this pretty young thing? he asks, still holding her hand as he turns his head to take in the half naked eighty year old man with his shiny wet, sagging prick, and me with my equally sagging cock and balls hanging out of my jeans.

Christine. My sisters girl. I keep a stone face but inside Im smacking myself upside the head.

The glint in coachs eye tells me he remembers my telling him one day, standing around after one of Chris games, that I was an only child. At least he doesnt yell for the cops or punch us out, but just because hes being nice at the moment doesnt mean hes a pedo, too.

Except it does. Still holding her hand, he drops to one knee, rubs his thumb over Chrissies swollen lips, leans in to possess her mouth, clearly tongue raping it, and again Chrissie cant move. This times its the coachs massive, hairy hand behind her head holding her in place. He breaks the kiss, looks up at Albert jacking his starting to plump up again cock, over at my already stiff meat. Theres just a slight hesitation before he uses the first pronoun as he asks, She any good?

Albert nods, proudly tells him shes only eight and just gave her first blowjob. The coachs eyes widen. He looks to me for confirmation. My smile is smug. Ive jacked in her mouth, but I decided I wanted to see someone else get the sluts mouth cherry.  I pause, and then casually add the fact she drinks piss to the mix.

I dont mention she doesnt really care for it.  Yet. But the boy/girls expression lets the coach know. He clearly doesnt care. Damn.  Ill bet... pause ...shes really useful to have around.

He stands up, still holding her hand. Coach Johnson is massive. Early 40s I guess, Marine style crew cut, squarish face, weathered skin, bushy salt and pepper eyebrows, fucking hair everywhere, massive guns, mostly good abs though theres clearly a belly start. I was going to use a tree over there, he tilts his head toward a side path leading into the bushes, but if theres an available urinal here....?

Of course.

Chrissie tries to get away, for which shell be punished later, but she quickly realizes what a dumb shit move she made. Her face, her whole body are bright red with not just embarrassment but absolute humiliation. Hes a star of the soccer team. Muscular, quick, talented. Only hes dressed like a sissy, in freaking girls clothes and being made to do awful disgusting things, and now the coach is going to piss in his...her...mouth?  What if he finds out who she really is?

As the saying goes, that train has sailed, though Chrissie doesnt realize it.

Hold very still, little girl, Coach says and I can see that the quick squeeze he gives her slender hand hurts.

Do you know who I am?

Chrissie looks down, desperately trying to hide the knowledge in her eyes, shakes her head. Coachs voice is smug when he introduces himself.  Im Ron Johnson. I coach Junior League soccer for the city, and Im head coach at the high school. Do you play soccer?

A head down head shake.

Thats too bad. I mean, weve never have enough girls interested to form a league, but you look like youd be really good. Quick and aggressive on the field. High scorer. Helping your teammates to score, too. Is that the kind of soccer player you think youd be...if you could play?

Bastard is really working her over.  Chris(sie) is too proud of his soccer talent to pretend.  He nods, but still with his head down, his hair sweeping over his face. Next time Ill try pigtails.

Yes, just as I thought. Well, its too bad we cant have both you and your cousin Chris playing.  Hes a real hot little stud, isnt he?

The blush is brighter than ever. She doesnt respond, though. A quick squeeze again, and a wince, and she nods.

Yeah, hed never be a slut like you, would he? Going after men in the park. Being a fucking cocksucking slut, drinking piss.

Silence. Another squeeze, harder. A shake. Answer me, slut.

N...no, sir. Chris wouldnt. He...hes not like me.

And what are you, Chrissie.

There are tears in her eyes. Fuck, but I like where this is going. Christopher and Christine, two well-fucked minds in one well-fucked little body.

I...I...Im a whore, sir.

And?

And... a large sigh as one large tear leaks a toilet, sir.

And what do you want right this moment, more than anything in the whole world?

She wants to get the fuck out of Dodge, to go back to a time where I didnt come home early from my trip and molest her body and give her the greatest pleasure shed ever had, to a time when her wonderful daddys-home gift wasnt clothes to be worn by a little girl, and make up to make her look like a whore. But she doesnt need to be hurt again. Shes a smart little boy/girl, my Chris(sie).  To be your toilet, sir.

Very good, little girl. He lets her hand go, caresses her hair, and tells her to get his daddy dick out and put it in her mouth. With shaking hands and slightly smudged makeup from the tears that fall a bit after all, she does what shes told. In moments she begins with the first large mouthful of hot coach piss that I can smell even where Im standing. Hes obviously used human toilets before, because hes controlling the flow so it doesnt back up and gush out the sides of her mouth and spoil her pretty dress.

He pulls an expensive cell out of his pocket, punches a single number, puts it to his ear. Waits. Ron. Get your ass over here. Pause. I dont fucking care if youve got three dicks inside you, get the fuck over here now. Just head west on the trail from the oak by the toilets. You cant miss us.

He hangs up. Looks at Albert and me. My son. Hes gonna want in on this.

Holy fuck. Not only is Coach queer and a pedo so is Ron, Jr.  Hes a junior and the star quarterback, and not just because of his relation to his father. And a hell of a third baseman, too.

Coach cuts off the piss, just stands there with his half hard meat in her mouth, stroking her hair. She understands she isnt to move. She doesnt. The adults look down the path where Ron will be coming from and in a minute or so he arrives.  Hes seventeen, and up to now Ive only seen him in his football or baseball uniforms at the occasional game, when Ive had to accompany clients or friends and couldnt get out of it. Ill be attending more often now, Im sure. Hes about his dads height, husky, wearing a sleeveless tee, running shorts with nothing underneath, trainers with no socks. Perfect park cruising attire, easy to get out of, easy to get back on.

Ron doesnt even blink at the sight of his dads meat half in the mouth of a beautiful little girl, down on her knees, her pretty yellow sundress starting to get a little messy. He comes over.  Breathes a soft, Wow! when he gets a good look at the connection between daddy dick and kid lips.

I need to finish pissing, boy. Coachs voice is stern.

Ron looks up at him, dismay in his face, a kind of please, daddy, dont humiliate me in his eyes, followed by resignation. The hunky athlete with the close-cropped hair, just like his dad, drops to his eyes and leans in with open mouth. Coach transfers his cock and sighs as he just lets loose. Clearly, Ron has had a lot of experience being a toilet. 

Coach pats his son on the head. Started him drinking from me when he was two.  Piss, jizz, licking sweat from my pits, my hairy ass. Gave him a stiffie every time.

He shakes his prick to get the last couple of drops into his sons urinal mouth.  Show em your stiffie, Ron.

Kneeling beside Chrissie, Ron hauls his shorts down below his balls. His teen meat is thick and uncut.  Chrissie cant help herself. She stares, too.

Coach smiles. It isnt pleasant, and it makes me spurt a long slimy strand of precum.

Chrissie, Coach says, you want your kid whore pussy fucked?

Chrissie hesitates and nods. No way to tell whether she really wants it, or whether she knows what Ill do to her if she doesnt agree.

No, no, little...girl. Tell me what you want.

Chrissie flushes. I...want you to fuck my kid whore pussy, sir.

On all fours, baby girl, so you can suck my son once Im in your cunt.

Chrissie does as shes told. Her skirt is still covering part of her ass, but her lemon yellow shiny panties can easily be seen. Coach rips the fuckers, making a hole that will mean the cum will just run down her legs once everyone is done with her. I can live with that.  Coach seats his also thick cunt buster on Chrissies pussy lips, grabs her waist, and shoves hard.

Chrissies wail is loud. Even though shes well-lubed with three loads of cum and butter from breakfast, meat that size has to hurt.

It does. It so fucking does. Albert is hard again, looking amazed. So am I.  Hard and amazed, but not about my own stiffie, just Alberts. Chrissie scrabbles against the dirt and grass, trying to get away, but Coach is too fucking big and strong. And then muscle hunk Ron is on his knees in front of her, holding her hair so if she fights shell freaking lose some.

And then jock father and jock son are ruthlessly fucking little Chrissie from both ends. Its good for her she doesnt have any gag reflex.  Christ, but they are fucking pounding her cunts.  I move up close to the fuck trio, wet two fingers in my mouth, kneel behind Coach, and caress his pucker. I briefly wonder if hes ever been fucked before, but dont really give a flying fuck. Shove my fingers up his hole. Coach grunts and pauses. Looks over his shoulder. Nods as if giving me permission.

Christ does he have a fucking surprise coming if he thinks I need his permission to use him, now or later. I pull my fingers out, slime his pussy with spit, slime my own prick with more, shove hard and punch my knob and part of my shaft into his hairy tight cunt. From the even louder grunt this doesnt happen often. In fact, the expression on his sons face suggests never.

I offer Rons unquestionably well-used pussy to Albert as I shove the rest of my meat inside Coachs cunt.

In some fucking fairy tale like that perv DannyR writes, wed all be fucking our respective holes in perfect harmony and blow our wads all at the same time. Guess he gets off on unrealistic shit like that. When youve got a four-foot tall little girly boy getting fucked at both ends while hes on his hands and knees, and four men of such wide ranging ages, heights, weights, dick sizes, this cluster fuck is anything but smooth and easy. Which is part of the fucking turn on.

Albert and I fuck the cunts were in as best we can, sometimes slipping out, but always frantically shoving back in again. Ron is first to breed with a loud shout that will certainly alert any queers in earshot that some hot shit is happening. His dad goes next, giving Chrissie her fourth load of man cum up her cunt today. I have Chrissie available day and night, so I spew up the Coachs cunt, perhaps pounding him with unnecessary roughness since hes all drained, but theres no flag on the play. Albert, though, he pulls out of Ron and with his very shiny, slimy red prick waving for all to see, tells us he wants Chrissies pussy.

We oblige by getting out of his way, and once Albert is buried in her hole, the Coach makes her clean his meat and then his sons. We watch with shared pleasure as the old man gets his rocks off again in Chrissies hugely slimy cunt.

When were all done with her I tell Chrissie to pull up her ripped panties as best she can. Shes kind of wobbly when she stands. She blushes all over her body when she farts, loud and wet. I go behind her, lift her skirt and push her forward a little. Cum is leaking out her bruised cunt, starting to slide down the inside of her thighs. I smile.

Coach tilts his head and we leave the others, though not so far I cant watch my little slut. Coach keeps his voice down, an admiring tone as he says, Never figured you.

Same here, Coach. Fuck, hearing about you molesting your son at two was so hot. I shrug. I wasted a lot of years.

You just get started on Chris?

Chrissie. My response is firm. He looks askance, and I need to make sure he understands.

My son, Christopher, is an amazing little boy. He may be gay. He may even want to have sex with other boys...or older men.  I look him sternly in the eyes.  I wont stop him, but I wont let him be hurt. It will always be his choice. Anyone who forces him will get fucked, and not in a pleasant way, even if I get destroyed in the process.

Coach nods. But what about....

My niece, Chrissie?

He nods.

Well, of course, shes not really my niece, since Im an only child.  My fathers youngest brother is a few years younger than me, and Chrissie is his.  My expression was of the thats my story and Im sticking to it variety, and he gave me a slight grin.

Chrissie is, well, a slut. A kinky little whore who I intend to put to good use. More of today, though she will be whoring and not just giving it away. Though as her pimp, I can naturally make...exceptions.

Coach nods, gropes himself. Hes hard again. Not surprising.  Equally not surprising is the fact Ron is hard again and Chrissie is on her knees sucking. Another man has come down the trail and is watching the blowjob in shock, but not too much shock not to be playing with his own cock inside his pants.

Hey, buddy! I call out. He looks reluctantly away and at me. Twenty bucks and you can fuck an eight year olds face.

He looks hesitant.

Ron chimes in, holding Chrissies skull in place as he thrusts deep.  Shit, man, shes so hot Im up to sixty bucks for the slut.  My dads gonna have to increase my allowance. He very carefully doesnt look over at Coach...who has a matching grin.

In a flash, the mans wallet is out and he has a twenty in his hand, but doesnt know who to give it to. I nod toward Albert. Thats her grampa. Give it to him.

Her...her grandfather? Jesus Christ.

Obviously, that doesnt stop him from going over to Albert and handing him the twenty. He goes over to the mouth fucking pair to watch the action and wait his turn.

We resume our conversation. 

You know, Mr....

Paul.

He smiles.  Paul, then. Have you ever considered a cheerleading outfit for your niece? Like the ones ours wear?

I smile back. With pigtails. And slut makeup. Im hard again, too.

You know, Saturday after next we have an important game.  Uh, football. He coaches so many teams he has to specify. I think it would be a great incentive for my guys if they knew theyd get to bang a cheerleader if they win.

But youre just a hardworking high school coach. You cant afford a high-priced hooker for something like that. And the boys certainly couldnt afford it individually. But if they pooled their funds?

He nods. How much?

Well, a talented slut like her, her ass would probably go for fifty. How many on the team?

Twenty-two.

Okay, $25 for each of the boys for the first hole, $10 for each repeat. Youre free, of course. $40 for the first hole for any other men, $20 for each repeat.

His smile is positively wicked. Chuck Albright is the team captain. Hes been molesting Chuck since he was five; weve been sharing since Ron was eight. Hell definitely be there.

My expression turns serious. Just two issues to deal with.

Coach nods, speaks before I can. One of them being that hopefully quite nice dick between Chrissies legs? Calling it a really big clit isnt going to work, you know.  

We both smile.

We put her in a darkened room. Explain that she doesnt want them to know who she is...which means theyll get fucking hard looking at every eight year old girl who could possibly be the cheerleader slut they molested. Show them a picture of Chrissie in his outfit, but with a dark wig. Have him tied in place bent over some thick pillows. The rules are they can fuck her cunt through the slit in her panties, or fuck her mouth, but no touching otherwise. Tom Albright or I will be in the room to make sure the rules are obeyed.  Solved?

I agree. But the bigger problem is whether one of the team will balk when they find out its not going to be an adult hooker pretending to be a cheerleader, or one of the girls on the cheerleading squad, but an eight year old little girl. One objection, one refusal, and were all fucked.

Coach chuckles, smoothes his face when he realizes I dont find going to jail humorous.  Although it is a bit incongruous to express this kind of concern when Chrissie is just now finishing up her first actual whoring blowjob.

Paul, when you have a queer captain like Chuck, whos all of two eighty, and a queer quarterback like my slut son, who have already gone through the team anyway...and there hasnt been a straight boy on the team whos turned down a blowjob from either of them, or a chance to fuck Ron...trust me, they wont turn down little girl pussy. Especially after they see Chuck and Ron suddenly getting all straight and plowing the girl.

I nod.  The two problems are dealt with.

Just one more quick issue, since Coach is the experienced pedo.  Where can I get some children to molest?  Some younger ones. Preferably much younger. Coach gives me some excellent advice.

Chrissies leaking pussy does make a mess on the leather seats, so I have Chrissie lean into the car to lick the leather clean, and then fuck her right there.

Once inside, we carefully remove Chrissies clothes and hang them up.

I sit my naked son on the toilet, stand in front of him with my renewed hardon sticking out, and carefully explain the new facts of his life.  Everything I told Coach earlier and more. How sometimes I would molest him as Christopher, though of course Im not calling that particular spade a spade but putting the whole making-love spin on it. But as Christopher he was otherwise free to make his own decisions.

That, yes, Coach knew who Chrissie really was, but Coach wouldnt treat him any differently on the team. Sure, he was free to offer his boy mouth or boy cunt to the Coach, but that was up to him. Coach would never ask or force.

But Chrissie...when I had Chrissie come out to play, she would do whatever the fuck she was told to do, quickly and without argument.

I then lovingly and tenderly fuck my sons boy cunt, and after hes cleaned me up, and Ive expressed my appreciation by eating my own slime out of his hole and sharing it, we go downstairs, eat, and relax watching TV together until its time for bed.

We go into my room and Chris politely asks if I want to be sucked. What father in his right mind turns down a faggot son who offers up a blowjob in his sweet mouth?

When Im finished fucking his face we go to sleep.

Sunday is going to be a busy day.

