jumping-into-his-arms

Eylül 4, 2022 0 Yazar: admin

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Subject: Jumping into his arms This story is for the gay/adult-youth section. Jumping into his armsby Short Guy Please remember that Nifty needs your donations to provide these stories. http://donate./donate.html Jumping into his arms part 1 Note: This story is a fantasy. It’s true that I had a hunky neighbor like Mr. Man and it’s true that I was jacking off five times a day by the time I was ten years old and it’s true that I was sexually attracted to grown men starting when I was ten years old. In truth, I didn’t get to suck Mr. Man’s cock until I was eighteen. But by that time, I had been fantasizing about doing it for eight years. That’s a long time for anyone with strong sexual urges to remain celibate. Yet it is what society demands and there may be good reasons for that. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy for boys like me who reach sexual maturity early and have sexual urges that are powerful and overwhelming that cannot be expressed except by jacking off. This fantasy pulls events back in time to when I wanted them to happen. It takes my fantasies as a preteen and teen and makes them real. I do not mean to encourage child abuse. But it is a fact that boys younger than the age of consent can have powerful longings for grown men. I know I did. This is my story as I imagined it happening at the time. The story: I grew up near the Atlantic Ocean. We went to the beach almost every day during the summers. At the beach club I got to see a lot of grown men of all ages in skimpy bathing suits. It was common back in the 1960’s for men to wear what we now think of as Speedos. In fact, almost no one wore baggy trunks. I loved seeing men in bathing suits. Not only were their muscles on display but I could see the curves in their round asses and the bulges in their crotches that often outlined their cocks so clearly that they might as well have been naked. I now realize that a lot of the men must have seen me staring at them. Try as I might to be discreet, I was drawn to them like a moth to a flame. I could not have looked away if my life depended on it. Standing there with your mouth open, gaping at someone’s package, well fuck, even the most clueless dad is going to notice it. Most of them thought it was just the natural curiosity of boys growing into manhood and being jealous of the men whose cocks were so much bigger and thicker than ours. But some of those men, and you know if you were one of those guys, understood that I was staring for an entirely different reason — one that I could not even have articulated at the time. One guy who clearly noticed me starting was Mr. Mahon. He was my neighbor and holy crap was he the fucking epitome of a stud. I loved that his name was pronounced just like “man.” In my own mind, I thought of him as “Mr. Man” and that’s what I’m going to call him here. Mr. Man was so handsome that he was almost pretty. You know, like Luke Macfarlane. Holy fuck is he hot. And so was Mr. Man. Face like an angel but not a feminine one; a guy, a man, a hunk. And his body! Fuck me, he was amazing. He had manly, muscular pecs covered with soft, reddish brown hair. Those pecs made me feel weak in the knees whenever I looked at them. They were strong, powerful, hairy, curvy and they stuck out a mile from his body. And his crotch in that Speedo… his cockhead was like an enormous mushroom. You could see the fucking rim around the edge of it as if it were one of those little satellite squashes. His cock was as thick as my wrist. Fuck it, I got rigid in the pool just looking at him. I thought Mr. Man was what a man should be; he was what I wanted to be. He was who I thought about when I jacked off alone in my bathroom. I matured early and was shooting cum at the age of nine. I was this little boy jacking off daily and perving on my neighbor daddy, shooting ropes of cum down the toilet or in the shower as I thought about feeling his pecs, his muscular butt, and that mysterious tool he had wrapped like a sausage in those Speedos. We knew Mr. Man because he lived down the street, and he and his wife went to the same beach club that we did. He used to throw me into the pool and have me sit on his shoulders as he walked around the pool. In the ocean, he would have me ride piggyback on him as he entered the waves. He must have felt my hard cock pressed against his back and his neck. When I rode him piggyback, my hands cupped those massive pecs. I was pretending I was just holding on so I would not fall off, but man I was feeling him up and getting my jollies pressing my little cock against his back. He and his wife were friends of our family and we were all huggers. Since I was a little boy at two or three years old, I would jump up into Mr. Man’s arms every time I saw him and wrap my legs around him. Everyone got a kick out of it. For as long as I remember, they said we had a special relationship. Everyone thought it was cute how much I adored him. But to me, it was more than that. I was drawn to Mr. Man. It was powerful the feelings I had when I saw him. And those feelings intensified as I got older. And he reciprocated in his way; he was nice to me. I think he got a kick out of my hero worship of him. But he also gave me the sense that he cared about me, even that he loved me. He was like an honorary uncle but… more than that. It took a while before I knew what that “more” meant. I understood when I was twelve that maybe I was too old to still be jumping into his arms, but fuck me, I wasn’t going to stop doing it. It went from being a cute thing to a macho deal where the question was whether Mr. Man was still strong enough to hold a kid who was on the way to becoming a man. I was about four foot ten when I was twelve years old and Mr. Man was over six feet tall. He still had it: the muscles, the looks. If anything, he got handsomer as he got older. So I kept up the thing about jumping into Mr. Man’s arms. Everyone was used to it and fuck it if I didn’t love the feel of his arms around me or the way his hard stomach felt against my boy cock. Mr. Man was strong, and he would hold his arms out asking me to jump him. Everyone expected me to do it and fuck me if I was going to stop. It was even funny now that I was older. They knew I looked up to him and thought he was cool. The fact that I was getting off sexually on being close to him was not anything anyone imagined at the time. But I realize now that Mr. Man knew. He knew it was more than hero worship. After all, he couldn’t miss how hard my boner was as it pressed against his abs… and against his back, his neck… I realized later that he knew about me all along. He knew why I was so drawn to him. He knew and… well, unknown to me, his cock would stiffen and engorge when he saw me as much as mine did. The baggy pants back then let him hide his reaction to me. But it was there. He told me later that it was there. I wanted him but he fucking wanted me too. He just bided his time. My mom would take me to the beach in the summer and my dad would meet us out on the beach around 6 or 7 pm after he got out of work. But my dad used to travel and was often gone for several days at a time. Mr. Man was a washing machine repairman and he had some control over the hours he worked. In the summer, he worked only in the mornings so he could go to the beach in the afternoons. When my dad was away, my mom often asked Mr. Man to take me to the beach club so she didn’t have to sit outside in the hot sun with nothing to do. Mrs. Mahon didn’t like the beach any better than my mom did. So they would get together with friends and play bridge while Mr. Man took care of me by bringing me down to the beach. It was like having a free baby sitter. My parents were happy I liked being with Mr. Man so much, and they were grateful to him for taking care of me and doing stuff with me that I liked doing. That meant that I got to spend a lot of time alone with Mr. Man. He even took me camping. And that time alone, well… it also meant I got to see him up close and naked. And close is what we got to be. Real close. Mr. Man often said he wanted to eat me up. As it turned out, I was the one to eat him first. You know what I mean. Don’t pretend you don’t. Here’s how it happened. Jumping into his arms part 2 The first change happened when we were over at the Mahon’s house for Thanksgiving dinner. I was eleven years old. It was me and my parents and Mr. and Mrs. Mahon. After dinner, the Wizard of Oz was supposed to come on TV. I really wanted to see it and back in those days you could only do that once a year when it came on TV. Mr. Mahon said I could watch it on their color TV. I was excited because we only had a black and white. My folks helped Mrs. Mahon clean up while I went down to the basement. They told me they would go home after that and Mrs. Mahon was going to rest and read in their bedroom. So it would just be me and Mr. Man, my buddy, together, in the basement with Dorothy. Mr. Man came downstairs with me and showed me how to turn on the television. At first, I sat next to Mr. Mahon on the couch. I kept glancing over at him, taking in his muscular biceps and shoulders, that incredible chest, his handsome face, his thick manly thighs, and that fucking bulge where his cock and balls were. Ever so often, Mr. Man adjusted himself. At one point, I saw him put his thumb and forefinger around his cock, outlining it in his pants as it snaked down his leg. I fucking stared at it, no longer looking at the TV at all. Mr. Man looked straight ahead, effectively giving me permission to watch him as his slowly stroked his cock, getting it harder. All very slow. All very causal. As if he were not doing anything at all. His cock grew. And grew. It was thick, as far as I could tell, and it was long. And then he turned and looked at me. I looked away, chagrined that he caught me looking at his cock. But I looked back. He was still holding his cock and moving his thumb. I looked up. He was looking at me. The TV no longer held any interest. He looked serious. I looked at him. We stared into each other’s eyes. I was imprisoned by that gaze. It was just him and me. He was looking at me in a way that seemed hungry. I can’t quite describe it. And then he reached over and held the back of my head with his left hand and gave me a gentle kiss on my forehead. A commercial came and Mr. Man said he had to go to the bathroom. There was one in the basement and he used it. When he came back, I saw that he had changed his pants. He was wearing sweatpants now and from the looks of it he wasn’t wearing any underwear. I looked at his crotch and saw that his cock was now very hard, but it was no longer snaking down his leg. It was upright and it was so long that it poked above the elastic band around his waist and pushed out his T shirt, which was tucked into his sweat pants. I could see that big mushroom head right there staring me in the face. It had that thick rim around it, and it looked to be two inches wide, almost as thick as my wrist. He stood for a moment, right in front of me. I stared at the mushroom head of his cock right there in my face. I looked up at him. He looked at me, saying nothing. He nodded his head as if to tell me to look. I did. I looked back at his cock, encased in his pants and T-shirt. I saw his cock twitch and move. The cock head pushed out the T-shirt in a jerking move. Holy shit. Holy mother of God. I don’t know how long I looked at it. And then Mr. Man sat down next to me. The show had started again but it had lost all interest for me. I just stared at his cock ramrod straight and upright in his cotton kocaeli escort bayan pants and that huge mushroom head pressed against his T-shirt. It was almost as if he were sitting naked next to me. And then he turned and quicker than anything he picked me up and sat me on his lap, my little ass pressed against his cock. He put his left hand over my right pec and hugged me to him and he placed his right hand right on my crotch, holding me firmly against him. He moved his face so his cheek was against mine. He squeezed my crotch. I was rock hard now. His fingers were long and they were under my balls and pressing up into my taint. He kissed my cheek. And we sat there like that, watching the movie. It was freaking weird and totally awesome. He was holding me lovingly on his lap like I was his son. But he was also slowly humping my ass and squeezing my crotch with his huge right hand. And from time to time he would kiss my forehead or my cheek. After a while he whispered in my ear. “You doing OK, son? You comfortable?” as he squeezed my crotch. I could not stop myself. I humped his hand. I was breathing hard. “Yes, sir. Yes Mr. Man,” I said breathlessly. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said into my ear. “Me too,” I whispered, as his cock twitched against my butt. “Me too.” He stopped squeezing and just kept his hand over my crotch holding me tight to him. I think he realized I was close to shooting my load. But I was eleven, and I was a horny little son of a bitch, and he was my hero, and his hand was cradling my cock and balls, and his daddy cock was throbbing against my ass, and God himself could not stop the shots of cum that erupted from my cock from the pressure of his hand against me. I shot and shot and shot and shot and as I did so Mr. Man kissed my cheek. I felt his tongue lick my cheek, again, again, again. I felt him humping my ass as he squeezed my cock. I felt his left hand squeezing my right pec muscle. I felt safe. I felt loved. I felt understood. I felt at peace. What we were doing was so weird and so obviously not right and so clearly something neither of us could tell anyone else about. I knew it was taboo. I knew it was not allowed. But Mr. Man trusted me, and I trusted him. And all I felt was close to him. I felt so close to him. I felt so much affection. My ejaculation was the most intense I had ever felt. When I was done, we both rested, and I laid my head back on Mr. Man’s chest and we watched more of the movie. After a while he picked me up and moved me so I was laying down on the couch with my head in his lap. My pants were wet with cum but he paid no attention to that. I felt his erect cock at the back of my head pressed against me. He had not cum yet. Mr. Man’s right hand stroked my hair a few times before settling on me, keeping me in place against his fabric-covered cock. He was holding my head with his big hand, controlling me. He pressed my head against his cock. His left hand… his left hand went to my throat. His fingers encircled my throat. If he squeezed, he would have choked me. But he was gentle, loving. Nevertheless, I was imprisoned in that spot, his hand around my throat and his other hand pressing me to his manhood, still encased in his sweatpants and T-shirt. I was totally in his control. We watched the show, but I paid it little attention. Mr. Man’s cock would throb from time to time and he would move as if humping my head. His left hand moved and his thumb… oh fuck… his thumb was caressing my lips. Casually, slowly, he was caressing my lips. I could not control myself. I opened my lips, just a little. His thumb stopped moving for a second but then he caressed me again, very slowly. I was rock hard again. I was breathing hard. I opened my mouth just a little more and… and… his thumb slipped in. It just slipped in. And then it was between my lips. It was on my tongue. It was … I was licking his thumb… I was… I was sucking it. Neither of us said a word. I couldn’t believe what I was doing. But then I couldn’t believe what Mr. Man was doing. After a moment, when he did not move his hand or take his thumb out of my mouth, I realized it was OK. It was OK. It was … It was something we both wanted. And when I realized that, I began to suck for real. I took more of his thumb into my mouth. I licked the bottom of it and sucked it. I sucked it like a baby. Mr. Man was holding my head now with his right hand and with his left as well. I was sucking on his large thumb. He moved my head then so that I was looking up at him. The TV was forgotten. His cock was now pressed against my cheek. His right hand held me there. And then he moved his hips. He moved my head. He was humping his hard cock against my cheek. His thumb was still in my mouth. I sucked. He moved. I sucked. He moved. I realize now that what he really wanted, what he longed for, what he thought about while he was jerking off his large daddy penis against my cheek, was to slip down those fucking sweatpants, take out that mushroom head and shove it in my mouth. But Mrs. Mahon was upstairs and maybe even my parents. So he did not go that far. We just stayed in that position for a long time. He was humping me. He was jacking himself off, pressed against my eleven-year old cheek as I sucked his thumb. The monkeys flew. I sucked his thumb. The Wizard roared. I sucked his thumb. The Wicked Witch melted. I sucked his thumb. And all the while, moving his hips against my cheek and breathing faster and faster. When the movie ended, I reluctantly released Mr. Man’s thumb and sat up. The place where Mr. Man’s cockhead hit his T-shirt was soaking wet. I realized some of his precum was on my cheek. “I’ve got to… I have to…” he turned and practically ran to the bathroom. I waited there, my pants still wet from my cum. But I waited for Mr. Man. He did not take long. But I could hear sounds, slapping sounds, rhythmic, repeated, slapping sounds, wet sounds. I heard grunting. I heard… Mr. Man was jacking off. Just ten feet away behind a closed door he was stroking his big daddy cock. And he was thinking about me. Mr. Man was stroking his large daddy penis because of me. He was… I heard the groan that meant he was cumming. I heard that groan repeat, signaling a powerful manly orgasm and several more shots of wet daddy cum. I felt the wetness on my own pants. When it was over, Mr. Mahon emerged. His cock was still engorged and it was making his sweatpants stick out in front. There was some wetness on his pants and his shirt. He looked at me. I stood up. He looked at my crotch. He looked at me. He looked to the side. He walked to the side table and took some tissues. Without saying a word, he knelt in front of me. I felt like I was a little boy again and Daddy was taking care of me. He undid my belt and slid down my pants. He eased my briefs over my cock and balls. He got me to step out of the pants and the briefs. He used the tissues to wipe off my cock. He took my underwear and pants to the bathroom. I was standing in my shirt but nothing else, my little penis hanging out in public, in Mr. Man’s basement, his wife upstairs in their bed. He came back a minute later. He had wiped the cum off my briefs and my pants but when I put them back on they were both wet. “Time to go home, Guy,” he said. He looked to the side table where he had a glass of water. “Tell your mom I’m sorry I spilled water on your pants.” I looked at him. He looked at me. He seemed… worried. I looked into his eyes. My big muscular buddy. My hero. My man. “No problem, Mr. Man,” I said. “I spill on myself all the time.” He smiled and I smiled back. His face lit up as if the worry had drifted away. And then he opened his arms, like he did when he was greeting me. And I knew. I knew he wanted me to jump into his arms like I always did, wet crotch and all. It was a message. It was a tender message. I was his boy. I had always been his boy. And wet crotch or dry crotch, he was my man. Jumping into his arms part 3 Amazing as it may seem, that’s all that happened between us until four years later. By this time, I was fifteen years old. Mr. Man had taken me to the beach as he often did. At the beach club, we would change in Mr. Man’s beach locker. The lockers were only a little bigger than a toilet enclosure in a public bathroom. I was big enough now that we probably should have taken turns getting dressed. But we had a routine, and we both fucking liked it. We would get inside and lock the door and be alone close to each other. It was a chance to be close. It was a chance to naked together. We never talked about it. But being naked together was… well, something we both looked forward to. We got undressed at the same time, bumping into each other, putting our hands on each other in silent apology. I had permission to touch Mr. Man’s body and I loved when he touched mine. Mr. Man was very tall (six four or so), and I was short (almost five feet tall) and when we were naked, his cock was almost as high as my chest. We had obviously been attracted to each other for years but Mr. Man had kept it all in check. Until that day when he fucking lost it. Here is what happened. We were changing in his locker, taking off our clothes, as usual. I was standing naked in front of Mr. Man and looking at him. He was sporting a raging hard on. I mean hard as a steel rod. His briefs were sticking out so far in front, I could see his naked cock from the side. “I’m gonna need some help, little man,” he said . “Can you ease the band over my dick so we can free it and lose the shorts?” As he talked, he put his hands on his hips like he was Superman. And fuck he did look like Superman! I shivered, not because I was cold, but because I was trembling with lust. It was Thanksgiving and Dorothy all over again but… this time, we would be naked together. “Please, Guy,” he whispered, ” please help me out.” I got on my knees. Mr. Man gasped, as if I had followed an order to “assume the position.” I put my hands over the band of his briefs to pull them away from him. His cock was so hard that I could not get the band over the tip. The wet spot where the tip hit the briefs was growing. His cock pressed up above the elastic band. To get the band over it, I had no choice but to hold his cotton-brief-covered cock with my hand to hold it in place so I could ease the elastic band over the top. As I grasped his cock, Mr. Man groaned. I looked up and saw his mouth open, licking his lips, nodding his head to tell me to go on. The band slipped over his mushroom cock head and as I shoved it down, I saw how long his cock was. If he put it against my face it would go from my chin to above my eyebrows. And there it was in front of me, throbbing, twitching, moving, and as I released my hand from his cock and pulled the briefs down his thighs, I had to move forward, and Mr. Man’s cock pressed against my cheek. I stopped moving for a moment, wanting this to last. Mr. Man held still. He did not move. I was trembling, worrying about what he would think about my putting my face against his cock. But he did not move. He held right there. Time stopped. After what seemed like an eternity, his hand moved to hold me behind my head, keeping me in place. We stayed stock still, his briefs around his ankles, his hand holding me in place, his cock pressed against my cheek. It throbbed. It twitched. He pressed it against my nose and my cheek. I breathed in, smelling him. Neither of us moved. It was as if we both wanted this moment to last. We pressed against each other. And then… Oh God then… I felt his cock move kocaeli sınırsız escort a little, rubbing against my cheek. He pressed it against me. I could feel it throbbing on my cheek, the blood running through it. Mr. Man’s hand on the back of my head held me firmly in place. And then he did it. He started moving up and down against my cheek. His cock was pressed against my nose and my right cheek and it was in front of my right eye. He was jerking off by rubbing his man cock against my face. I remained still, not wanting to jinx anything. His breathing got faster. His moans became more audible. He was speaking. He was moaning. “Oh Guy, oh little Guy, oh my buddy, my little man, my boy, my baby boy, my Guy, my baby, my son,… oh… oh… oh…” And he lost it. He held my head with both his hands, and he rubbed his cock against my face, stroking it against my cheek and my nose, faster, faster, faster, moaning, moaning, saying my name, calling me his little man, his baby boy, his… I looked up at him. It was hard to do since he was holding me against his cock. But looking up, I could see his face, eyes closed, mouth open, lust filling him so deeply that he acted as if he were being compelled, as if he had no choice, as if he forgot that this was real, as if he were not masturbating his man cock against the cheek and nose of a teenager. I knew what it meant. I knew he wanted me. I knew what he wanted was to feel his cock against my face. He wanted… he needed… And I reached up behind him and did what I had dreamed about for years. I grasped his muscular daddy buttocks, one in each hand. I squeezed them. I held them. I stroked them. I loved them. I pulled him closer to me. I let him know that I wanted his cock to be touching my face as much as he wanted to jack off against my warm boy cheek. I wanted his body. I wanted him. I wanted that feel of his hard hot stiff dick on my cheek and my nose. I wanted… He pumped his cock against my face. He pressed it hard against me. I felt it moving over my lips. I found myself opening my mouth. My tongue… My tongue, it… I licked his cock. And fuck me to hell, at that exact moment, when my hot tongue touched his throbbing penis, he groaned so loudly I thought someone would think he was dying. And right then, his cock blasted off, as if the feel of my wet tongue on his cock was the last straw. His first cum shot was so powerful it sailed over my head and hit the wall. The second shot of Mr. Man’s cum landed on the top of my head, the third on my forehead, the fourth all over my nose, and the fifth…. oh God… the fifth… Mr. Man was now totally controlled by his lust and without thinking about it, he moved my head back, used his thumb to open my mouth and thrust his cock into my mouth. And that’s when the fifth blast of cum shot out and filled my mouth. And another… just one other… Two shots of cum. Right in my mouth. I gagged. His cum was thick, gooey, warm. It was at the back of my throat. His hands were holding my head in place so I couldn’t move. I had no choice. I coughed and gagged. He held his cock in my mouth; he held my head in place as his cock twitched its last few times. I gagged again. As if emerging from a trance, Mr. Man realized what he had done. “Oh my fucking God, Guy, what did I do?” He slipped his cock out of my mouth. His hands were still on my head. He tilted my face up so I was looking up at him. This made his cum slither to the back of my throat. I gagged once more and then… and then…I swallowed. I swallowed his cum as I looked into his eyes. He saw. He saw the exact moment when I swallowed the cum he had just fed me. It went down. It went down smoothly. I swallowed again. He saw my Adam’s apple go up and down as his cum slid down my throat. I was getting used to the feeling of the gooey stuff at the back of my throat. It was, after all, what I had wanted for so many years. It was the cum of Mr. Man. It shot out of his cock that had been on my tongue. I looked at Mr. Man. I swallowed a third time. I licked my lips. I swallowed once more. I looked at him. He looked frightened, angry at himself for losing control, worried about my reaction. I paused, thinking about what had just happened. I had just sucked Mr. Man’s cock. My tongue had caressed the underside of his penis. I had felt the cum tube spasm as the cum moved through it. I had felt his hot cum spurt into my mouth. I had tasted its salty, thick nature. I had swallowed it. I had swallowed a part of Mr. Man. He had given me part of his manhood. It was now a part of me. I had admired him for so long. I had been fixated on his cock. I had wanted to suck his cock. I had fucking wanted it. And now… I looked at my hero. He was thinking he had hurt me. I was thinking that he had given me the greatest gift he could have given me. I needed him to stop worrying. So I smiled. Mr. Man looked at me. He had been frantic about the fact that he had just assaulted me. He was aghast at his loss of control. He had been good for so many, many years. But the feel of my face against his needy dick, the warmth of my skin, the smoothness of my nose, the look in my eyes, and the touch of my hot little tongue at the base of his throbbing dick… it had pushed him over the edge. He had lost control completely. He thought I might be crying or scared or confused. But I was grinning from ear to ear, licking my lips, and swallowing his thick, manly milk. As I looked at him, he sobbed, whether with relief or remorse at what he had done I could not tell. As I looked at him, a drop of his cum slowly made it way down the side of my nose and reached my upper lip. It slowly — so slowly — moved to my lip, and as I looked at Mr. Man, I licked it off and made it mine. The moment he saw me do that, Mr. Man sobbed again. He clearly had not planned to do this. He had just been so overwhelmed with lust… Looking down at my handsome face. Looking at the boy he had wanted for years and years. Seeing me on my knees. Seeing how I worshipped him. Knowing, in his heart of hearts, what kind of boy I was, how I would probably want what he wanted… It all just was too much. So he had lost control. He told me later that it had finally gotten to him, watching me stare at his cock and his muscles, seeing my cock get hard every time I saw his handsome face. And then seeing my boyishly handsome face staring in wonder at his manhood, feeling his cock as hard as steel against my warm cheek, he had done it. He had finally fucking done it. And that last bit, when he opened my mouth, when he … oh God when he shoved his daddy cock between my soft lips… It just… It just happened. It was… He had been having the best orgasm of his life pressed against my cute face. And my pretty mouth was right there. I was on my knees in front of him. I was submitting to the feel of his cock against my face. I wanted it, didn’t I? I had let him know in no uncertain terms that I wanted it, hadn’t I? I had placed my hands on his muscular ass pulling him to me, pulling me against him. I was kneading his butt. I was insisting he continue. And fuck it all, I had licked his dick. He had felt my tongue. I had practically begged him to… So he had fucking opened my mouth and shoved his ejaculating penis right to the fucking back of my throat to shot the fifth and sixth shots of his semen into the mouth of the boy who undoubtedly wanted to suck his frigging cock. He was ashamed of himself. He was terrified about what would happen. But then there I was, grinning, happy, licking my lips to get every last drop. He had wanted me to suck his cock for years. And it was finally, painfully obvious, that I had wanted the same fucking thing. Of course, it was not a proper suck job. There would come time for me to learn how to do that. It wasn’t as if Mr. Man wouldn’t want to do it again, and it was obvious I was eager to learn. I looked up at him, his cum still in my hair. Mr. Man picked me up and hugged me to him. He was breathing fast like he had run a marathon. My hard cock was pressed against his stomach. My head was laying on his shoulder. He was hugging me close. I had not cum yet. And I was so fucking hard and so out of inhibitions that I started moving up and down on his body, humping his muscular stomach as he held me to him, one of his hands on my bubble butt and the other behind my back. His neck was there, and I opened my mouth and sucked on it. Mr. Man gasped. I humped him. Faster. Faster. Faster. He caressed my ass. He slipped his forefinger between my ass cheeks and gently stroked my asshole. I sucked his neck. I humped. I humped. He stroked my asshole. He kissed my head. He kissed my cheek. He kissed my mouth. He kissed my mouth. He inserted his tongue into my mouth… At the feel of his tongue in my mouth, I exploded. I literally exploded. I shot my load against his firm stomach. I shot and shot and shot and shot and shot and shot. And all the while he was fucking my mouth with his strong, powerful, long, daddy tongue. It was the strongest orgasm I had ever had. It was the most pleasure I had ever known. And a fucking relief to Mr. Man. It meant that he had not made a disastrous mistake. He had given me what I wanted; he had made me his boy. He had done what he always wanted to do, and miracle of miracles, I had wanted the exact same fucking thing. Jumping into his arms part 4 Despite my reaction, Mr. Man was reluctant to do much more with me. He had gotten divorced, by that point so he lived alone. Theoretically, I could have been sucking his cock every day after getting home from high school. I know I wanted to, but he felt nervous about being caught and I was still only fifteen years old. But then I turned sixteen, the age of majority in my state for sex, and Mr. Mahon finally decided, to give me what both of us fucking wanted. We went camping. No better way to be isolated, to be alone, to share a bed. My folks hated the outdoors. Too many bugs. But I was game to do anything Mr. Man liked to do. So we went camping together. We shared a tent of course and we needed to strip to get into our sleeping bags to sleep. I was trying to be discreet, just glancing over at Mr. Man from time to time, as he undressed. I jacked off all the time remembering the feel of his cock in my mouth and wondering when he’d let me do it again. “Guy,” he said. “Can you help me with my hiking boots?” I looked up at him — way up — and saw his face smiling down at me. He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “Please, son,” he said, imploring me. I would do whatever he fucking wanted. Didn’t he know that? “Sure Mr. Man,” I said. “Anything you want. Anything.” I saw his eyes go wide as I kneeled down and started undoing his laces. As I was doing it, I looked up at his crotch up there hanging out just a little way from my face. I gulped and looked down again. The first shoe was undone, and he lifted his foot up, placing his huge hand on my shoulder to steady himself. I eased off his boot and he kept his foot in the air. I looked up at him and he just nodded down at his foot which by the way was huge compared to mine. I realized he wanted me to slip off his sock, so I did that. When he big toe came into view, I saw it was as big as two of my big toes mashed together. I did the other foot too. I remained on my knees and looked up to Mr. Man’s face. He was looking at me really seriously and as I looked he cupped his crotch and gave it a squeeze. I shuddered. I looked up at him again. “My pants, son,” he said so quietly I could izmit anal yapan escort barely hear him. I liked when he called me son so I made a joke. “Yes, Dad,” I said. He took a quick deep breath when I said that. I looked up at him. “If I’m your son, then you’re my dad, right?” I said. He looked at me, a strange look on his face. It was as if he had heard something weird that he had to figure out. “Just for now,” I said, “just for tonight.” I realized then that it got me hard to think of him as my dad and I wanted… I wondered if I had gone too far, if he would think… But my gamble paid off. Hearing me say that was almost too good to be true. “Just for tonight,” he said, quietly. “Just when we’re alone.” I nodded and smiled. He looked at his pants. “Help me out, son,” he said, tentatively. I answered, no longer making a joke, saying it as seriously and tenderly as I could, looking into his eyes as I spoke, “yes Dad.” He gazed at me, wonder in his eyes. And then, down at his pants. He wanted me to undo his belt and… God almighty, I did it. I undid his buckle, opened the button and looked at his zipper. I looked up again. He looked at me. And then, maybe realizing I was nervous, he smiled. “It’s OK, son,” he said. His large hand caressed my face. “Dad needs your help.” I felt my hand moving, almost of its own accord and I was sliding his zipper down. The back of my hand brushed over his white briefs and I felt his cock beneath them. I reached up and took both sides of his waistband and slipped his pants down. There in front of my face was his cock, still encased in the white briefs. It was sticking out. He was obviously half hard. He said nothing, letting me look at it. After a while I realized I had been staring at this cock and came back to my senses. I slipped his pants all the way down and he stepped out of them. I took them and folded them, very neatly, like my mom had taught me, Mr. Man’s crotch a few inches away, the fabric moving as his cock got stiffer and moved and grew and grew. “It’s getting cold tonight,” he said, in his gruff manly voice. “You remember what I taught you about surviving when it’s really cold?” “Yes,” I said, “skin to skin is best.” “OK then,” he said. He paused. Then he spoke so quietly it was almost a whisper. “So let’s do the last part, huh son?” I looked up at him. Mr. Man. Dad. “Yes Dad,” I said, and, trembling with anticipation, I slipped his briefs down. His cock was half hard, pointed toward my face. I had his briefs down near his feet and slipped them off him as he stepped out of them, holding onto my head for balance. I looked up at him. His eyes were hooded, sexual, needy, his hand was gently caressing my head. His cock was freed and as I watched it got hard. It stood up. It was there in front of my face. I stared at it, so thick, so red, so long, so erect, so proud. “It’s so big,” I said. I could not stop myself from saying it. I looked up at him. He looked serious. “Yes, it is, son,” he said, almost whispering, and he added, so softly I almost couldn’t hear it. “This cock made you. It belongs to you.” We both held still for a few moments. On my knees in front of him, his cock in my face, his hand now caressing my head. I felt my mouth open. It was totally instinctual. Mr. Man did not move. But I did. I took his cock into my mouth. I took it in. And I began to suck. I licked the helmet all around. I licked under the rim. Mr. Man groaned when I did that. “Yes,” I said to myself, “I’m learning what he likes. Good.” I wanted so much to be close to him. I wanted so much to be close to that center of his manhood. I wanted to get a taste of it, to feel its power, to feel his power, his manliness. But I also knew that it would make me happy if I could make him feel even a little bit of what I felt when I jacked off thinking about him. Slowly, he guided more of his cock into my mouth, taking care not to gag me. He was fucking my mouth now. I was sucking him! I was sucking Mr. Man’s cock! I felt the tube at the bottom of his cock pulse and throb. I heard him moan with yearning and need and lust as my tongue stroked the bottom of his throbbing dick. I don’t know how long it went on. I had to stop several times to breathe. He told me to breathe through my nose. I tried it and it worked. That meant I could keep his penis inside my mouth longer. I could lick it, worship it, take it in, make it mine. Suddenly, as if he had made a decision, he stopped and slid his cock out of my mouth. He sat down right in front of me, grabbed me by the waist and sat me down on his muscular naked daddy legs. He took off my boots, my socks, and my shirt. He stood me up and slowly, so slowly, undid my belt, the button, the zipper and then his hands… his big hands… slipped under my pants and cupped my ass, just for a moment. He slid my pants down and helped me step out of them. He looked into my eyes as his hands slipped under my briefs and cupped my bare ass; he squeezed it, still looking at me. He was kneading my hard, muscular round boy butt, as he looked at me. “We’ve been buddies a long time now, haven’t we son,” he said. My cock had grown hard as a fucking rock. I felt the air hit it as he pushed my briefs down to the ground. I stepped out of them. We were both naked now. My face was right in front of his. His hands were still caressing my ass. One finger slipped between my ass cheeks and gently touched my asshole. “Yes, sir,” I said. “Everyone says we have a special relationship,” he said, as he took his right hand sucked on his middle finger. When he took it out it was totally wet with saliva. He put it back between my legs and pressed gently on my asshole. “You’ve always liked me, haven’t you son?” he said, as his finger slipped just inside the opening to my ass. I grunted. His finger slipped further in. His lips were near my face suddenly. “Yes, Mr. Man, I…” “Dad,” he said. “Call me Dad.” “Dad,” I whispered as God in heaven, he pushed his finger into my asshole. He was pulling it out and pushing it in, again, again, again… He pushed it all the way in and…holy mother of God, he touched something inside me… he touched… oh God my cock was throbbing. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stop myself, I grabbed my cock and started stroking it. It was a feeling like… like… nothing I had ever… And then, faster than you can say “shut up and suck,” Mr. Man swallowed my cock whole. Fuck me with a tool, it was the best thing I had ever felt. Mr. Man’s finger fucking my ass touching my… my what? His hot tongue licking my cock, sucking me, sucking, sucking… It was too much. It was too fucking much. I couldn’t have stopped myself if it meant that I would die immediately afterwards. I shot my twelve year old load into Mr. Man’s hot manly mouth, my hands on his head pulling him to me. I pistoned in and out of his mouth as I fed him one, two, three, four, five, six shots of boy cum. My hands were still in Mr. Man’s hair, my cock in his mouth, his finger caressing what I later learned was my prostate gland as I stood there trembling. I felt Mr. Man’s finger slowly withdraw from my ass and my cock felt the cool air on it. Mr. Man was getting a towel and lotion to clean his finger and my cock. Neither of us said anything. Mr. Man slipped into his sleeping bag and I started to get into mine. “No.” I looked at him. He was holding up the side of his bag, clearly inviting me to join him. He was still stark naked. and I saw something glistening at the tip of his penis. Skin to skin, he had said. OK, we were in the woods, it was cold, my idol was naked and hard and ordering me to cuddle with him so I did what any good Boy Scout would do. I did what Mr. Man asked. I slipped into his bag. I put my arms around him, my head on his massive, muscular chest, that hard wet penis throbbing against my balls as I felt the sleeping bag close around us. Mr. Man was on his back and I was cradled on him. I felt his lips kissing my forehead. “Did you like that, son?” he whispered. “Fuck yes, Mr. Man,” I said, swearing like a grown up. “Sorry Mr. Man, I just…” He held my head to make me look at him. “No worries, son. In here with me, you can say whatever you want. You can touch whatever you want. You can ask me to do anything you want. And no one will ever know. Just you and me. You understand?” I looked at him, at this handsome, muscular, grown man — a man whose cock I had sucked and whose cum I had swallowed, and I felt at peace. I felt like myself. I felt free. “Yes, Dad,” I said. His face was right there, right in front of me. He was close, so close, his breath on my face… “I love you Dad,” I said, without thinking. He gasped. His lips were near mine, his tongue visible. He kissed me. He kissed me. He kissed me. We made out, me and my dad, me and my hero. His tongue was in my mouth now, licking, touching, invading, deep inside, withdrawn, inside, withdrawn, in, out, in, out, that strong strong tongue fucking my mouth, as Dad reached for something just outside the bag and then I felt cool liquid on my ass, my… my asshole, the place where his finger had been. Hold heaven I was hard again. His finger, it slipped into me, it.. moved in, out, in, out, and …oomph oh God what was that? It must be… two fingers… two of his thick manly grownup fingers embedded in my ass, his tongue fucking my mouth, his… oh God oh God oh God, his cock was pushing, pushing… it was stuck. I was too tight. It wouldn’t fit, it wouldn’t… Aaaarrrrrgh, it slipped in, it just slipped… pressure…pressure… like taking a dump like. OH MY FUCKING GOD. His cock was pressing forward, deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper, and … He was fucking me. Dad was fucking me. I knew a man could fuck a boy but I had no idea how it worked. Now I did. That proud, erect, huge, daddy cock needed me, it fucking needed me, it needed to move in and out, just like I needed to jack off. I just never imagined that a cock could find a place to fit, a place to slide, a place to … Oh God oh God oh God oh God… Dad’s tongue was fucking my mouth as his cock fucked my boy butt. My cock was slipping and sliding over his muscular stomach. We were encased in his sleeping bag and Mr. Man … Dad … was fucking me. I moaned. Dad withdrew his tongue from my mouth and chuckled. He fucked me and fucked me and fucked me and I couldn’t stop moaning. He was kissing my forehead. I was moving my face so I could look into his eyes. He was fucking me and I was looking at him, groaning, in wonder, in awe… “My boy,” he said, “my beautiful boy,” as he thrust his hard cock into my ass over and over and over and over. I was overwhelmed with the feeling of his cock fucking me, his handsome face looking at me, his strong hands gripping my ass and moving me up and down on his cock, up, down, up down… And then I came again, my cock slippery against the precum I had shot on Mr. Man’s stomach. I shot and…holy shit, what was that? A big thrust inside me, warm, wet, full, again a thrust, again pressure, warm, wet… Shit fuck piss, we were cumming together. Dad shot his thick cum up my ass as I shot on his stomach. As he shot and I shot and he shot and I shot, I looked into his eyes. Blue, beautiful, surprised, elated, gratified, relieved, overcome… as we finished, Dad pulled me down to him and kissed me on the lips, his tongue lazily pushing inside. I sucked on Mr. Man’s tongue. He chuckled, happy that I liked the way he fucked my mouth with that powerful wet warm appendage. He removed his tongue and kissed my cheek. His rigid cock was still inside my ass. His arms were around me now. It was cold outside. We were inside a tent, inside a cozy bag, naked, skin to skin, as we had been taught. I was saving Mr. Man’s life. And I realized then, and I realize now, he was also saving mine. Short Guy fty//gay/authoritarian/you-know-you-want-it

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