Boys Will Be Toys

Boys Will Be Toys - Part 1: The Blond (Mb, ped, interr, anal, oral, ws, scat) by Coproman

I'm going to lay my cards right on the table with regard to my number-one personal prejudice: I am totally against interracial relationships. Why? It's very simple: Interracial relationships involve interracial fucking, and interracial fucking leads to interracial babies, and the more interracial babies there are, the fewer white babies there'll be.

No, I'm not a racist. In fact, I'm a light-skinned black who's the product of an interracial relationship. So you might accuse me of either being a hypocrite or having a serious case of self-hatred. I assure you it's neither. I just happen to prefer white children, especially blue-eyed blonds with smooth unblemished skin and rosy cheeks. They are just so damn CUTE! So it doesn't make me happy to see white women with black men or black women with white men because the potential procreation eats away at those recessive genes, and pretty soon there won't be a blue-eyed blond kid to be had anywhere in America.

Fortunately a lot of white folks feel the same way I do, which is why they tend to stay among themselves and try to keep guys who look like me away from their daughters. I applaud them for it. I wouldn't dream of fucking a white girl. A white BOY, on the other hand--well, that's another story. Since there's no danger of making a baby, I am totally FOR interracial relationships between gays. But black and white heteros need to stay away from each other, because I'd like to have the biggest possible supply of white boys to choose from.

Again you might call me a hypocrite, but think about it: In my own unique way, I'm doing my part to keep the white race as pure as the driven snow. Yeah, some of my younger constituents might not necessarily agree with my way of helping out. After all, it's not easy taking an eight-and-a-half-inch cock up your butt, especially if you've never done it before. But with a little persistence, whether they're seven or seventeen, it eventually fits, right up to my balls. And every time I reach orgasm and plant my seed in their bowels, I do so with a feeling of complete security, knowing that my hundreds of millions of sperm can swim to their hearts' content without burrowing their little heads into anything other than a turd.

That's how it was with Tucker, who provided me with my very first pedo experience. At the time I was 24, working as a gardener/landscaper on Long Island and just beginning to get a handle on my attraction to young white boys. Tucker's parents owned this big-ass house, and one of my add-on duties for a little extra money was to pick him up from school, since his mom and dad didn't get home from work until after six.

At nine years old, Tucker was cute, smart, and precocious. His eyes were a piercing light blue, his lips a soft pink, and his long hair a golden blond. About four-and-a-half feet tall, he was a tad thin--weighing in at a whopping 70 pounds--but he had more butt than most white boys his age. I kept thinking how coincidental it was that his name rhymed with "fucker" and "sucker," and I began to wonder if his parents had sensed something about him that caused them to subconsciously choose that name.

Whatever the case, every time I went to pick Tucker up and watched him walking to the car in his school uniform--white shirt and dark tie, dark blue blazer (with the school crest on it), and gray slacks--I got a hard-on. I always told myself that it was because, even though he dressed like a boy, he looked very much like a girl. At the time, I simply couldn't admit to myself that it was Tucker himself who turned me on.

But if I didn't know it, Tucker apparently did. In fact, it was as if he could see right inside my brain, and he seemed to have a clearer picture of what was going on in there than I did. It all came to a head one Friday afternoon as we were driving home from school. Usually Tucker and I bantered, both of us using the kind of raw language we couldn't in front of his parents, taking verbal potshots at each other about sports and other shit until we both started laughing. This time, though, Tucker was unusually quiet for about five minutes into the trip home, then...

"Hey, Jamir, you got a girlfriend?"

"...uhh, no."

"How come?"

"I don't know," I said, wondering where this conversation was going. "I mean, I have friends who are girls, but there's not just one person I--"

"Fuck?" he asked, giggling.

"Yeah," I chuckled. "That."

"Well, I don't think that's why," said Tucker. "I think the real reason why you don't have a girlfriend is because you're gay."

BOOM!! A direct hit off the starboard bow!

"Really?" I replied, trying to laugh it off.

"Yep. I think you like fucking boys instead of girls, so I should've asked you if you had a BOYfriend. So do you?"

"No, I don't have one of those either," I said, trying hard to keep my composure while suddenly feeling very warm.

"You probably wish I was your boyfriend, don't you?"

"No, I do not," I said. "Why would you think I'd be attracted to a skinny little snot-nosed white kid like you?"

"Matter of fact," Tucker continued, ignoring my question, "I bet if I went for it, with us being the only ones in the house, you'd probably fuck me, wouldn't you?"

I didn't answer him. I just shook my head and smiled, but I could feel my cock getting harder. "You're funny, dude. You should try out for Comedy Central."

"Yeah, you'd probably be horny enough to fuck me right in my own bed."

Again I chuckled, but now I could feel myself sweating. Just the thought of what Tucker had suggested had already succeeded in making my dick fully erect. Fortunately the tail of my polo shirt hid it, so I hoped he wouldn't notice anything as I squirmed in my seat while trying to concentrate on driving.

"Yeah. You'd probably fuck the shit outta me and bust a nut up my butt right in my own fuckin' bed," said Tucker.

"Right," I finally said. "But if that's the case--if I'm so gay--why didn't I do all that a few months ago when your folks first hired me?"

"'Cause you didn't know if I'd go for it," Tucker countered. "If I didn't, I would've told my mom and dad, and they would've fired you and called the cops, and your ass would've got thrown in jail with all the other perverts." Then he paused and added, "But if I DID go for it, none of that would've happened. You would've fucked me, I would've kept my mouth shut, and I would've had to change my fucking drawers 'cause your gay cum would've been leaking all outta my fucking asshole."

I glanced over at Tucker. He gave me a big exaggerated grin, showing off his perfect white teeth. I snickered and shook my head again. "Like I said, dude, you're funny--a fucking comedian."

By then, thankfully, we were rolling into the driveway. When I stopped, Tucker and I gave each other our usual high five, after which he grabbed his backpack, hopped out of the car, and dashed in the house as if nothing had happened, exactly the way he always did. I waited until he was gone to get out of the car. I needed time to adjust the raging hard-on that was tenting my jeans.

As I got back to work in the yard, it was hard to focus. I kept thinking about what Tucker had said. Was he testing the waters or just fucking with my head to see how I'd react? I was pissed that I had so little insight into the mind of this nine-year-old kid while he seemed to know me better than I knew myself. But I tried to put it out of my mind. I figured he'd probably already forgotten about the smack talk and was busy doing his homework or playing a video game or watching TV. Then my cell phone rang. It was Tucker.

"Hey, Jamir, can you come here a minute? I'm in my room."

"What's the problem, Tuck?"

"I need help with something."

"What?"

"I can't explain it on the phone. It's better if I show you."

"Okay."

As I started into the house, a part of me was hoping what he wanted had something to do with what he'd said in the car. At the same time, another part of me was praying it had nothing to do with it. To say I was conflicted was putting it mildly. There was nothing I wanted to do more than fuck that little white boy's ass...and nothing I wanted to do less.

When I walked upstairs, the door to Tucker's room was closed, so I knocked. "Hey, Tuck, can I come in?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Hurry up."

When I opened the door, what I saw froze me in my tracks: There was Tucker on his bed, naked as a jaybird! He was on his hands and knees, his head low and his little white hiney sticking up in the breeze.

"What the fuck...?!"

"Exactly!" Tucker said, turning his head and grinning at me. "So...you like?"

I didn't know what to say or do. I just stood there staring at him, probably with my mouth hanging open.

"Come on, Jamir," said Tucker, wiggling his butt. "You know you want it."

I gulped and shook my head, trying to come to my senses, but I still couldn't find my voice.

"I promise not to tell my mom and dad. It'll be our little secret."

The nine-year-old seemed to understand that those were the magic words I needed to hear. I slowly closed the door behind me and walked towards the bed. There was a mischievous glint in Tucker's light-blue eyes.

"First just look in there," he said, "so you can see what you're getting."

With my heart racing, I placed my palms on Tucker's pale ass cheeks and gently spread his anus open with my thumbs. I was just about to take a look inside the pink hole when he farted right in my face.

"Gotcha!" he shouted triumphantly. "So how's my fart smell to ya?"

Before answering him, I took a few seconds to sniff the air, savoring the fragrance of the little blond's funky fumes. Afterwards I replied, "Almost good enough to eat."

"Then eat the rest outta my ass," said Tucker.

I hesitated, knowing that the next move I made would cross the line into full-fledged child molestation. Not that I had initiated it; Tucker had asked for it. But while my brain was reminding me that this defense had never held up in court, my dick was passionately arguing my case, so after taking a final sniff, I dove right into the boy's asshole with my tongue.

"Oooh!" he responded, flinching.

Never had I performed anilingus on anyone so young. And, boy, did his hole reek! It was as if Tucker had just taken a shit and hadn't bothered to wipe. But far from turning me off, the idea that I was not only smelling the boy's fart but possibly slurping up the remnants of his bowel movement just made me even hornier. After probing his poop chute for several minutes, I finally came up for air. Tucker turned around and looked at me.

"So how'd you like eating my ass?" he asked, grinning again.

"It was okay," I said, downplaying my excitement.

"So you didn't mind tasting my shit?"

"No, not really," I admitted.

"So are you saying you LIKED it?"

"Well, no, not exactly, but--"

"Stick out your tongue."

I complied, and when Tucker saw it, his face squinched up.

"Ewwww! I KNEW it! Your tongue's all brown!"

I took a quick look in the full-length mirror on the back of Tucker's bedroom door. He was right. It was indeed brown, and had anyone been around to smell my breath, they'd have known right away what I'd eaten to turn it that color. I looked back at Tucker, whose grin had morphed into something more sinister.

"Uh-huh. I KNEW it!" he said again.

"And what, exactly, did you know?"

"That you liked it. I usually take a dump as soon as I get home from school," he explained. "But this time I held off, 'cause I knew what I was gonna do, and I wanted to see if having an ass full of shit would stop you from licking my butthole. I see it didn't."

I was mortified. I'd fallen right into Tucker's trap, and once again I didn't know what to say. Even though he was naked, I was the one feeling exposed. I'd been so careful about keeping my shit fetish hidden, revealing it only to the very few people I knew who either had similar tastes or who were willing to indulge me. So what did this little white fucker see in me that told him I wouldn't refuse to eat his shitty ass? What gave me away? I kept flipping through the index cards in my head of things I'd done or said in front of him, but I couldn't come up with anything. I resolved to ask him, but he anticipated my question.

"I have to admit--I didn't know for sure you'd do it," he confessed. "I just figured you wanted me, and if you wanted me bad enough, you'd take whatever I gave you, even my shit. And when you didn't stop licking my ass, and didn't even wipe off your tongue after I told you what was on it, I figured you must like it."

Tucker's reasoning was flawless, and we both knew it. It was just a matter of how much I decided to tell him about the extent of my fetish. At nine years old, was he mature enough to understand a shit fetish? I was afraid he'd be so turned off by the truth that he'd change his mind about wanting me to fuck him. I was also afraid that he wouldn't be able to resist spreading the word among his friends about the shit-licking landscaper who worked at his house. But it turned out that I wasn't giving the boy enough credit.

"So, Jamir, you wanna watch me go?"

"You mean..."

"Yeah, you wanna watch me take a shit?"

"...ummm..."

"I already know you do, so why don't you just say so?" he asked, staring me down.

"Well..."

"Wait. Don't tell me. It's because you wanna do more than that, right?"

"...maybe," I said. "I don't know."

The evil grin was back, only now it was more like a smirk, his blue eyes twinkling again.

"Hmmm? Well, let's figure this out," Tucker said, holding his chin and looking up at the ceiling as he pretended to ponder. "You wanna watch me take a shit, but you also like licking it outta my ass. So, putting two and two together, I come up with only one thing, and it's pretty gross. So is that it?" he asked, staring at me again. "Is that REALLY what you want me to do?"

"I don't know. What'd you come up with?"

"You want me to take a shit in your mouth, don't you?"

I didn't answer. I just looked at him and smiled sheepishly, both ecstatic and embarrassed to hear him say it out loud. But while my ecstasy stayed hidden, my blushing face betrayed my embarrassment.

"Ewwww! I KNEW it!" Tucker said again, this time wrinkling his nose.

But now that he knew what he'd said was indeed what I wanted, I worried that he might not want to do it. It was, after all, more than a little out of the ordinary. I was waiting for him to let me know, to give me a sign, but he just kept staring me down, frowning, and shaking his head. Would he now refuse to do it, or was the whole nasty idea of it simply too intriguing for him to pass up? It took a while for him to speak again.

"So if I do it," he asked, "are you gonna...like...eat it?"

I wasn't sure what he wanted to hear me say, but I figured I was already in too deep to lie about it, so I went ahead and said yes.

Now Tucker had a REALLY funky look on his face, as if he were picturing me slurping down a mouthful of shit and was totally disgusted by it. Now I was sure that telling him the truth was a mistake. But his evil grin soon returned.

"Damn, Jamir! You're the biggest fucking freak I ever met!"

I chuckled. "You mean you've met OTHERS?"

"Yeah. A couple of guys at my school are pretty weird. One likes to suck dick, and the other one likes smelling farts, just like you. But you...you take the fucking cake!"

"So...are you ready to feed me some of that 'fucking cake'?" I asked.

He giggled. "Don't you mean my ass fudge?"

"Yeah, exactly."

After staring at me for a few seconds longer, Tucker laughed and said, "Fucking right I'm ready! I've been serving up ass fudge for years, but nobody ever wanted to EAT it before! I'd be a fucking ass wipe to pass up something like that!"

Though I tried to play it cool, it was both a major relief and a major turn-on to hear Tucker say that, and my boner celebrated by getting even bonier.

"But let's do it in my bathroom," the boy suggested. "I don't wanna have to clean up any accidents or explain any funny smells to my moms."

When Tucker got up, his three-inch cocklet, with its pretty pink tip, pointed right at me, as if it were saying, "Yes, my friend, YOU have been chosen to drag my young owner's brain through the sexual sewer, so make sure you do a GOOD job!" Of course, I couldn't disappoint such a beautiful little prick, so I silently swore to it that I would do the best job I could.

As I followed Tucker into his bathroom, I couldn't help admiring--or, really, ogling--his slim hips and prominent little white butt, and the idea that that little white butt was going to feed me a load of boy-shit had me so hot I almost came in my pants. It was probably because it had been over three years since I'd indulged myself...or, really, since someone had indulge me...

At the time I was into older white boys, and when this beautiful 15-year-old, with spooky green eyes and spiky blond hair, strutted into the video arcade (where I was the assistant manager), I could tell immediately that with the right incentive, he'd give me whatever I wanted. That incentive turned out to be letting him play as many games as he wanted for as long as he wanted for free. This got me the first thing I wanted, and though he insisted he wasn't gay, my sperm somehow managed to find its way down his throat, up his ass, and even into those spooky green eyes of his within a week of our meeting. The other thing took a little longer, but by then I knew that his addiction to video games would cause him to do anything to please me, no matter how nasty it was, and I'll never forget the exhilaration I felt as he sat on my rim seat and I lay underneath him, watching his anus blossom open as his teenage turd made its way out of his rectum and into my wide-open mouth...

"So should I just squat over the toilet?" Tucker asked, breaking me out of my reverie.

"Yeah, but climb up on it first."

Lifting the lid, I helped Tucker step up on the porcelain rim of the toilet bowl, after which he turned away from me, squatted, and held on to the tank to balance himself. I crouched down behind him, which put my face in perfect alignment with his ass. The nine-year-old turned his head to look at me at the same time I was lifting mine to look at him. His nose wrinkled as we exchanged a smile.

"You really gonna do this, Jamir?"

"Of course. You ready?"

He nodded.

"Then go."

Tucker turned away from me again, and I refocused on his puckering asshole. Even though he had to go, I figured he might have trouble since going this way was so different. But I also knew how urgency usually conquers shyness when it comes to bowel movements, and I was pleased when I saw Tucker's anus begin to stretch open, revealing the business end of a light-brown turd.

Gently spreading the boy's buns, I watched in fascination as his shit made its way down his anal canal, constantly stretching it until his asshole had grown to more than an inch in diameter. That's when the smell hit me. It was similar to the odor of his fart but sharper, more intense, and as it wafted into my nostrils, the sound of Tucker's piss hitting the water filled my ears. Now that I was seeing, feeling, smelling, and hearing the intimacies associated with a cute young white boy taking a shit, the only thing left was to add my sense of taste to the mix by opening my mouth nice and wide.

"Mmmmmmmm!" I moaned as, with a soft crackle, Tucker's semisoft turd pushed past my lips and began to fill my mouth, overpowering my taste buds.

"Fuck, yeah!" he yelled. "Eat it, Jamir! Eat my fucking shit, you nasty motherfucking homo!"

The very idea that a white kid fifteen years my junior was calling me names and screaming commands at me as he took a dump in my mouth had me so excited that it almost pushed me over the edge. But I didn't want to waste my load by coming in my underwear, so I forced myself to focus on the task at hand: swallowing a huge fucking mouthful of white-boy shit. With a gulp so big it brought tears to my eyes, I forced nearly half of it down my throat, making room for the refill that was already making its way out of Tucker's asshole.

"So how's my ass fudge taste, Jamir? Good?"

"Mmm-hmm!" was all I managed to grunt out before downing another hefty mouthful of the nine-year-old's number two.

"That's because you're a fucking retard," said Tucker. "'Cause only a fucking retard would do something as pervy as eat a load of fucking shit."

"Mmmpphh!" I responded, thinking he had a point. After all, being a human toilet wasn't the sanest thing someone could do. But at that moment I didn't care what Tucker thought of me. In fact, if anything, his put-down made me even more determined to eat his entire bowel movement, no matter how big it was, if only to confirm for him my status as a "fucking retard."

Accomplishing that task, however, turned out to be no small feat. When Tucker mentioned that he took a dump every day after getting home from school, I didn't think he meant a double-flush dump. Never before had I been so thoroughly fed, as I swallowed mouthful after mouthful of the cute blue-eyed blond's shit, filling every inch of my stomach with the leftovers of whatever he'd eaten for breakfast and lunch.

But I had resolved to keep eating, no matter what. I needed desperately not only to fulfill my own fetish but to make the whole process so appealing for Tucker that he had no choice but to agree to become my new personal shit top. From now on, every time he felt the urge to go, I wanted him to think about going in my mouth. I wanted that vision of me underneath him, slurping down everything he eliminated, to become so branded in his young brain that he couldn't imagine NOT going in my mouth and would be disappointed whenever I wasn't around and he had to settle for taking a shit on the toilet. Of course there was no guarantee of such a transformation, but the first step toward making it happen was doing my part by finishing the big brown meal his little white ass was feeding me.

Finally, after what seemed like hours and only seconds at the same time, Tucker's bowels were empty, so I swallowed one last time, pulled back, and checked out his asshole. It was puckering but not pushing out anything else, so I spread it open a little wider, sealed my lips over it, and dug my tongue in, causing the boy to flinch, moan, and press his ass up against my face. When I had properly cleaned him, I pulled back again to inspect my work. I was delighted to see that the boy's anus was completely shit-free, glistening with my spit. Up till then, it was the most thorough eat-and-wipe job I'd ever done, and I was proud of my perverted performance.

But as Tucker was turning his head to look at me, I got lightheaded as a wave of nausea passed through me. It was as though that non-retarded part of my brain suddenly realized what a disgusting thing the pervy part had done and wanted to purge my system. Fortunately all it took to kill the nausea--and push the pervy part of me back in front--was a long, loud burp, which made Tucker giggle.

"I guess that means you liked it, huh?"

I looked up at the boy and smiled. "Yeah, you might say that."

"Yuck!" he responded, giggling again. "And since I just went, I guess that also means there's more room in my ass for you to get your cock in there now, huh?"

"Yeah, you might say that too."

"So let me see it," he said, stepping off the toilet bowl and turning around to face me. "Let me see your junk."

This was the moment of truth. Through all our talking I had failed to mention to Tucker how big my dick was, how it was damn near an inch long for every year old he was. So I certainly didn't want him to see it, at least not before I fucked him, because I was afraid he'd change his mind about wanting it. I was hoping against hope to get him back in position on his bed, this time with his face down and his eyes closed. That way I could do a quick strip-down, get behind him, and put it in him before he got a chance to see it. But I should've expected that a precocious kid like Tucker would insist on checking out the merchandize.

"Okay," I said. "I'll let you see it...but only if you let me do something first."

"What?"

"Just have a seat," I said, placing my hands on Tucker's shoulders and gently urging him to sit on the toilet.

Staring curiously at me, Tucker sat down cautiously, upon which I got down on my knees, reached underneath him, grabbed his ass cheeks, winked at him, and swallowed his erection.

"Shit!" the boy hissed, first shuddering then hugging my head and lifting his hips. "Yeah, Jamir, suck it! Suck my fucking cock!"

This was another first for me--not sucking cock but sucking such a small one. It was as though I were sucking on a white guy's middle finger, only this particular middle finger was super-warm and pulsating.

"Ooooooh!" Tucker moaned. "That feels so fucking good!"

I wanted to ask him if it felt as good as the blowjobs the kid at his school gave him, since I was pretty sure he'd had a few, but at the moment it was a matter of "suck now, ask questions later" while using my own middle finger to search for Tucker's anus. When I found it, I poked my fingertip inside, causing the boy to gasp and jerk forward.

"Fuck! Now it feels even better!" said Tucker, and as I began to finger-fuck his asshole, he began to hump my head.

We were going at it for less than five minutes when Tucker announced that he was about to come. Being that he was only nine, I wasn't sure if he was old enough yet to produce sperm. Every boy his age and younger bragged about "shooting" his "load," but the most any of them could come up with was a dry come. So as much as I wanted to taste the essence of Tucker's youthful sexuality, I was prepared to be satisfied simply bringing him to orgasm.

"Fuck! I'm coming! Take it, Jamir! Take my fucking load!"

With those words, Tucker's whole body began to shimmy and shake as though he were having a seizure. Through it all we held on tightly to each other. Maybe it was because I had sucked him so well, or perhaps because I had just shoved my finger all the way up his ass, or maybe he was just so fucking horny. Whatever the case, Tucker not only orgasmed but also delivered the promised "load," a sweet, sticky dollop of boy-juice that spurted onto the back of my tongue.

"Mmmmmmmm!" I moaned as I swallowed the little white boy's nectar. It was a light, delicate dessert, a perfect complement to the heavy entree he'd fed me from his bowels.

"Fuck, that was good!" he panted, slumping against me as I released his throbbing peter from my mouth and eased my finger out of his pulsating shithole. "That was the best fucking blow job I ever got!"

"Better than that kid at school?" I asked him, smiling.

"Yeah, MUCH bet...I mean--oh, shit! I wasn't going to tell you."

I laughed. "Hey, as soon as you mentioned it, I figured you were more than just a spectator. And I'm guessing you farted in that other kid's face more than a few times too, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but, like I said, he LIKES it, just like the kid who sucks cock. I was only giving them what they wanted."

"So you were just being a good samaritan, huh? You didn't get ANYthing out of it."

"Well, maybe a LITTLE something," Tucker sheepishly admitted.

"So tell me about it. Give me some details."

"I will. I promise. But not now. First I wanna see your junk, like you promised."

"Oh...okay."

Knowing I couldn't hold the nine-year-old off any longer, I began to strip, looking at Tucker the whole time, fearing his reaction. Already I was telling myself how lucky I was that the boy had shit and come in my mouth, and how I might have to make do with just those.

By the time I was down to my briefs, the outline of my erection was clearly visible, and Tucker's eyes got wider; and when I pulled my briefs down and my dick popped out, his eyes got so wide I thought they were going to pop out of his head. I couldn't tell if the look on his face was surprise or fear or both, and the silence was deafening. Finally he spoke up.

"Shit, Jamir, you've got a fucking horse cock!" Tucker said, staring at it as if it were the most incredible thing he'd ever seen. "So I guess what they say about black dudes is true, huh?"

"Well, it's true about some of us," I replied. "So I'm guessing you like what you see."

Stooping down to inspect it more closely, he finally glanced up at me and, smiling, said, "Yeah, you might say that."

I smiled back at his mimicry; then I just stood there to see what he would do next. He seemed almost as interested in my nappy nest of pubic hair as he was in my dick, running his fingers through it, sniffing them, and wrinkling his nose at the musky odor. But ultimately his attention returned to my dick, so I wasn't all that surprised when he gently grasped it and began to examine it from different angles. I also wasn't surprised to see his prick begin to harden up again.

"Damn, this shit is amazing!" said Tucker. "But why's it so much darker than the rest of you?"

"I don't know. It's that way with most light-skinned guys."

"That might be true," he said; then he looked up at me and smiled that devilish smile of his again. "But in your case, it's probably because it's been in so many homo assholes, it has a permanent layer of shit on it."

I couldn't help laughing at the absurd remark. "Like I said in the car, dude: You come up with some wild shit! And speaking of shit, are you saying you want to add YOURS to that permanent layer on my dick?"

"...maybe," he said as he continued to check out my equipment.

I hoped that meant he was still planning to go through with letting me fuck him, for he was clearly turned on by his new toy. But now that it was fully exposed and he could see how thick, veiny, and long it was, I could certainly understand whatever reservations he might have about trying to fit it into his tiny white hiney. One thing I knew for sure, though, was that if he kept messing with it, I risked coming a lot sooner than either of us wanted me to. The stimulation went beyond the incredible feeling of his hands on my dick; it was also the stark contrast of his pale fingers against my dark brown dick that was making my libido soar.

Then Tucker made a move that nearly did make me shoot my load prematurely. Paying special attention to the pre-cum leaking from my piss slit, he oohed and aahed and, without missing a beat, slipped my glans into his mouth.

"Ooh!" I gasped, instinctively grabbing Tucker's head the same way he'd grabbed mine when I sucked him off. The warmth and wetness of his mouth on my dick and the silkiness of his blond hair between my fingers increased my sexual stimulation, which now seemed to be zapping my whole nervous system. All of a sudden it wasn't a must that I fuck Tucker's ass. If he now wanted to change his mind and take my load down his throat instead, I was more than willing. But after only a few exploratory swipes of his tongue, he pulled away.

"That's enough for now," he said, licking his lips. "I just wanted to see how it tasted."

"So did it taste like shit?"

He smiled wryly. "Nope. Just a little salty"; then, still staring at my erection, Tucker said, "So, Jamir...you ready to do me?"

"You mean you still want it?" I asked, more than a little surprised.

"Sure. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well...I'm kinda big, so I thought maybe--"

"You're not trying to talk me out of it, are you?"

"Hell, no!" I quickly said. "I just want to make sure you're prepared for...you know."

He smiled lovingly at me. "Listen, don't worry," he said, casually reaching in the drawer of his nightstand and handing me a bottle of K-Y liquid. "I know it's weird, but I kinda like it when it hurts--I mean, as long as it doesn't KEEP hurting. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I do. So are you saying you've had one up your butt before?"

"...well, not a REAL one. Just a carrot...and a zucchini, once."

"Well, Tuck, this is a LOT different from planting veggies in your tushy."

"I know. That's why I want it: I want to see if I can take it."

So he was challenging himself. I liked that. It meant he wasn't likely to tell me to stop, even if the pain got bad. Not that it was going to be all that easy to slam on the brakes once I started humping his cute little rump. It would be like trying to stop a speeding freight train--it takes time to slow a beast like that down. But this wasn't something that Tucker needed to know.

While I was musing, Tucker had gotten back on his bed and re-assumed his head-down, tail-up position. The only difference now was that his balls, bladder and bowels were all empty. I just stared at his pale butt cheeks and rosy little anus as I lubed up my cum-dribbling cock with the K-Y. I also thought about how his bowels would soon be filled again, but in a very different way. How either of us expected my man-cock to fit in his boy-hole, I'll never really know. But Tucker was determined to take it, and I was just as determined to give it to him.

I began by making sure that I wasn't the only one who was well lubricated by thoroughly dousing the preteen's puckered port in K-Y. I did the same thing to my middle finger then carefully pushed it in him, relishing the sound of Tucker's moaning as I impaled him. Once it was all the way inside, I held it there for a minute or so then slowly began to piston it, loving the feel of his anal sphincter clutching at it as well as the suctioning sound of the finger fuck.

When Tucker's asshole was nice and slick, I added another finger. He winced a little at the new intrusion but seemed okay with it, especially after I drizzled a bit more K-Y over us. When his hole had expanded enough to accommodate my now thrusting, rotating fingers, I decided he was ready, stretched open at least enough to get me in, so I slowly withdrew both fingers, wiped off the excess K-Y on my cock, and mounted him.

At first I just slid my shaft up and down Tucker's shallow ass crack. He responded by backing his ass up against me and cooing. But I was too damned horny to keep that up very long without risking a premature ejaculation, so I backed away from him, reached down, and used one hand to pull one of his ass cheeks to the side. With my other hand I clutched my shaft and aimed it at his exposed hole. Taking a deep breath, I pushed.

"Ohh!" Tucker yipped, jerking forward. But I quickly grasped his hip and gently pulled him back to me. Holding him steady, I pressed on, eliciting a drawn-out "Owwwwwwwww!!" from the boy as my glans strained against his pucker. Finally there was an "Ouch!!" as my dickhead popped into his poop chute and his anal ring closed around it. Tucker was breathing hard but seemed to be okay.

"Well, the head's in," I said. "You ready for the rest?"

"Uh-huh," he panted, nodding, "but not too fast, okay?"

"Okay. Just try to relax."

Before proceeding I couldn't help looking down to see our connection. It looked like Tucker was right in the middle of taking a massive shit, but instead of a big brown turd, his anus was giving birth to my big brown dick, except everything was in reverse, because this turd was headed the other way. In other words, the "baby" was about to be shoved up the "birth canal."

With that thought I started my dick on its long journey down the nine-year-old's shit chute, stretching it along the way. If shitting earlier had expanded his anal canal and rectum, it wasn't by much because he was still incredibly tight, and combined with the internal heat of his body, the feeling was awesome. I was driving myself crazy with lust. I had the urge to ram all eight-plus inches of my cock up his ass and fuck his brains out, but I managed to fight it.

"Nnnnnnnngghhh!!" Tucker groaned, his face pressed into his pillow and his knuckles white as he clawed the bedsheets. At one point he whipped his head to the side, and I could see the grimace on his red face as he bravely took my tool deeper and deeper into his virgin hole. I leaned over and put my mouth right beside his crimson ear.

"So tell me, Tuck. How's it feel? Does it hurt?"

"FUCK, yeah!" he said through clenched teeth. "It hurts like hell!"

"You want me to take it out?"

"FUCK, no! Don't you DARE fucking MOVE till that cock is all the way up my ass!"

I smiled. "Okay, if that's what you want."

So on we went, Tucker moaning and groaning into his pillow and me venturing farther and farther into his asshole until finally, unbelievably, I hit bottom, my balls resting on his ass cheeks and my dick lodged so snugly inside him that I could feel his rectum pulsating on my shaft.

"That's it, Tuck," I announced. "I'm all the way in. So how's it feel now? Still hurting?"

"Like a motherfucker!" he yelled into the pillow. Then he turned his head to the side again. He was still grimacing, but not as much, as he asked, "So how's it feel to you?"

"Awesome," I admitted, savoring the sensation. "So I guess what they say about preteen white dudes is true, huh?"

"What do you mean? What do they say?"

"That you guys have the tightest assholes on the planet."

My remark made Tucker giggle, and his little laugh made it all the way to my cock, coming through as a series of pleasant anal contractions.

"Really?" he asked. "And who the fuck is 'they'?"

"Oh, I don't know," I said coyly. "A couple of black guys I know...."

He giggled again. This time I could feel his body relax. "Get the fuck outta here! Nobody said that but YOU!"

"Okay, you got me," I conceded. "But from what I'm feeling right now, I definitely think it's true."

Still smiling, Tucker turned his head around a little farther, just enough for me to catch that twinkle in his eye. "Do THEY also say that preteen white dudes are the best fucks they ever had in their whole fucking lives?"

"They might. But first they have to find out if it's true."

"Then I guess it's about time they did, don't you?" asked Tucker, and he immediately turned his head back and pressed his face into the pillow again.

That was my cue. Getting a good grip on Tucker's hips again, I began to pull back, slowly withdrawing my cock from the depths of his asshole while he hissed in reverse, sucking in air between his clenched teeth. As I watched my pole emerge, I was again amazed that all of it had been able to fit inside him in the first place. When everything but the head was out, I stopped. Despite my efforts to lick the boy clean after eating his shit, there were light-brown streaks all along my shaft, dredged up from places my tongue couldn't reach. For me it was a nice added touch, and the idea that not only the K-Y but the boy's own shit would be helping to lube him up for his first ass fuck had a special appeal for me.

"Okay, Tuck, I'm going back in now," I warned him. "Remember to relax. Push out like you're taking a shit."

"You mean like I'm dropping a big fucking load of crap in some retard's mouth?" he asked, giggling.

"Exactly," I said, smiling but at the same time thinking how I was going to make him pay for making fun of my fetish.

So back in I went, and after an initial "nngh!" and a momentary contraction of his rectum, my underage sex partner did indeed relax, and I was able to slide all the way back inside him pretty easily. Again resisting the urge to hump him hard right away, I made several trips up and down his shit chute, going just a little faster each time until, amazingly, I was truly fucking Tucker's pale white ass, rhythmically driving my cock in and out of his tight little turd tunnel while he went back to moaning and groaning. Again I leaned over and put my mouth beside his ear.

"How is it now, Tuck?" I whispered. "Does it still hurt?"

"Nngh! Yeah, but--nngh! Not as much. Nngh!"

"So you like it?"

"Nngh! Don't know yet. Nngh!"

"Don't worry. It'll get better."

I was speaking from experience. As an attractive light-skinned black kid growing up in a single-parent household in Harlem, I quickly discovered that I was a desirable commodity to the closet pedos who prowled the neighborhood. This included our upstairs neighbor, Latrell, who also happened to be my babysitter. Tall, dark-skinned, and muscular, Latrell was the epitome of the black macho man, which made women swoon over him. At the same time there was something boyish and playful about him too, which made women want to mother him. So he had girlfriends galore. Even so, my mom should have known there was something fishy about a 30-something-year-old guy who lived alone, never went to work, but could somehow afford to pay the rent every month on his large well-furnished apartment. Did he have a stable of sugar mamas paying his way? Whatever the case, Mom felt that I needed an adult male figure in my life, and since Latrell had offered his services, his place was spotless, and he only sat for me during the few hours between when the school bus dropped me off and when she came home from work, I guess she figured it would be okay.

She was wrong. Latrell may have been a womanizer, and he may also have had sugar mamas supporting him, but he was mostly a first-class pedophile who LOVED "playing" with little boys, so at the age of six I was introduced to a smorgasbord of sexual games. It began no more than a week into his sitting for me, when he sucked my little dick and gave me my first orgasm, which had me hooked right away. Latrell had only one rule: To be fair, anything he did for me, I had to do for him. I'd learned all about fairness in school, so I agreed.

The next day I found myself trying to get his humongous cock into my not-so-large mouth. In retrospect, his was probably no more than six inches long, but to me, a boy who had never seen an erect adult penis before, it seemed more like twelve, and I was having a hard time sucking it the way Latrell had sucked mine. Even though I knew my technique was lousy, he kept saying I was doing fine, and it wasn't long before, to my complete surprise, Latrell gasped and something warm and slimy spurted into my mouth. There was so much I almost choked, but even without Latrell's urging I knew I needed to swallow it, which I somehow managed to do.

Only afterwards did Latrell tell me what it was, explaining how if a lady took it in her vagina, it would make her have a baby, but if a young boy took it down his throat, it would turn him into a big strong man with lots of muscles, just like him. He also said that since I was still too young to make any yet, it was only fair that I give him back in piss whatever he gave me in sperm. I couldn't believe that Latrell meant it was okay for me to pee in his mouth, but a little later that same day, when I had to go, I told Latrell. Smiling, he casually led me into the bathroom, unbuttoned my fly, and fished out my cocklet. Then he sat on the floor in front of the toilet, leaned forward, and took my dickhead between his lips. I went right in his mouth, and it excited me that I could actually hear him swallowing it.

After that I couldn't wait to get home from school to pee in Latrell's mouth and see what other new games he had for us to play. Once, I remember, he asked me if I'd ever farted in someone's face. I started laughing at the idea, and while Latrell laughed with me, he convinced me that, as crazy as it sounded, it was a fun thing to do. So then he asked me if I had to fart. It was almost as if he already knew they'd served us franks and beans for lunch at school and what my answer would be. Anyway, as soon as I said "yes," he spun me around, snatched down my pants and undies in one move, bent me over, and stuck his nose in my ass crack. I kept giggling the whole time, and I guess it helped to relax me because I had no trouble farting right in his face, and I giggled all the more when I heard him sniffing it up and telling me how good it smelled.

But his next move made me stop laughing immediately because it was so unexpected. Sure Latrell had sucked my dick and had even drunk my piss. But piss one was thing; shit was another, and I was shocked that my big black playmate was suddenly trying to lick all he could find out of my asshole, his tongue snaking around in my rectum. It was the weirdest feeling in the world, but it didn't take me long to realize how much I liked it. The only problem was that I couldn't enjoy it as much as I wanted to because I kept thinking about having to return the favor, and the very idea of sticking my tongue in someone's anus disgusted me.

But fair is fair, so when, two days later, Latrell stripped, got down on the floor, stuck his black butt up in the breeze and said he had a "surprise" for me, I knew what was coming; and though the normal first-grader in me wanted to renege on the deal, the sexually awakened six-year-old was determined to see things through. So, closing my eyes, I pressed my palms against Latrell's ass cheeks then pressed my face into his ass crack. He farted right in my nose, and as awful as the oniony odor was, I didn't back away or hold my breath; and when he farted a second time, I breathed it in too. It was at that point, I think, that both he and I realized that I actually liked--or, at the very least, didn't hate--smelling his farts. So when he said, "Now eat my ass!" I don't think either of us was surprised when I dove right in, sticking my tongue in Latrell's anus and slurping around like I'd done it a hundred times before while he loudly moaned out his appreciation.

Of course all of these games eventually led to me fucking Latrell's ass, which turned out to be quite an experience, being that he was so much bigger than me. First it was a matter of getting my three-inch peter into his anus, since I kept missing the mark; then it was a matter of keeping it there, since I kept pulling back too far on my out-strokes. Finally, though, I got the hang of it, and I managed to hump away at Latrell's big black muscle butt long enough to have a very satisfying dry orgasm, as his anal sphincter clutched at my cocklet.

Then it was his turn, and though Latrell licked my asshole, lubed me up with Vaseline, and slid his fingers in me as gently as he could, when he finally put his cock in me, it still felt like a baseball bat was being shoved up my ass. But once again I was determined to keep my word about being fair, so whimpering, gritting my teeth, and with tears running down my cheeks, I braved Latrell's assault until every inch of his dick was buried in my ass.

Latrell was so impressed that he actually stopped to congratulate me, telling me that of all the little boys he'd fucked, I was the only one who'd endured first penetration so well. He then proceeded to fuck me silly, like I was the last piece of underaged ass he would ever get; and the longer he fucked me, the more the smell of shit began to fill the air, as the friction of his dick pistoning in and out of my asshole heated up the leftovers in my bowels. In fact the memory was so strong that I swore I could smell it again...

"Fuck!" Tucker suddenly yelled, startling me out of my daydream and making me realize that I wasn't imagining the smell at all. It was very real, only it was my cock heating up the shit in Tucker's bowels. Of course this only turned me on even more, causing me to hump his little white hiney even harder. But what surprised me was that the smell seemed to turn Tucker on too, because he began to rut his butt into me with every in-stroke, maximizing my penetration of his poop chute. That's when I knew he'd turned the corner, that whatever pain he'd been feeling was now wrapped in a warm blanket of perverse pleasure.

"Yeah, fuck me, Jamir!" Tucker now yelled. "Fuck the shit outta my white ass!"

"Incredible" and "exquisite" don't come close to describing what it was like banging Tucker's little booty. I'm sure the physical sensation would've been about the same fucking any nine-year-old boy, but this was not just any nine-year-old boy. This was a blue-eyed blond fox whose parents were well-off enough to send him to private school and employ me as their gardener. In other words, his was an ass of privilege, the last ass in the world that I expected to be jamming my dick in. But there I was, having the time of my life with a kid who was used to having people like me WIPE his ass but was brand new to having one of us FUCK it.

"Fuck! Mmmmmmmm! Now it feels fucking AWESOME!" said Tucker, panting.

"I told you it would get better."

"Well, for once in your fucking life, you were right."

I laughed to myself. Hadn't this little fucker learned after the "retard" remark that it's a bad idea to throw a put-down at someone who was driving their dick up his ass? But Tucker and I both knew that I would never do anything to deliberately hurt him. That didn't mean I wouldn't get him back again by causing him a little more discomfort, though, and on my next in-stroke, before pulling out, I kept my whole eight-plus inches planted in his asshole and started rotating my hips, stretching him open and making him groan. (But they sounded like groans of pleasure, so I'm not sure my payback really worked.)

When I went back to fucking the fourth-grader straight-up, I knew I didn't have much time left. As much fun as I was having, my gonads were screaming at me that it was time to procreate, and it was getting harder and harder for me to quiet them. They were especially insistent because I'd been so busy with gardening here and painting at my place that I hadn't jacked off in at least three days and had built up a big supply of sperm.

So I was conflicted: While one part of me was eager to keep humping the nine-year-old's rump, another part was just as eager to deposit my mega-load deep in his succulent little shitter. But the idea of shooting what a fuck buddy of mine crudely referred to as my "hot nigger cum" in the virgin hole of a preteen blue-eyed blond was so appealing that it was becoming more and more difficult to restrain my orgasm, and only seconds later it broke through.

"Shit!! Fuck!! I'm coming!!" I cried out. Pinning the boy's wrists to the bed, I thrust my cock as far up his ass as it would go, crushing his body into the mattress and trembling on top of him. "Take it, Tuck! Take my cum right in that tight white ass, you fucking bitch!"

"Nngh! Nngh! Yeah!" he panted in response, again lifting his tiny hiney to seal our connection. "Yeah! Give it to me, Jamir! Bust your nut in my little white butt!"

As I began to shoot, I wondered just how deep my boner was buried in Tucker's asshole. Being that he was so small and my dick was so big, the head must have been lodged well past his rectum, which meant I was blasting my baby-makers directly into his sigmoid colon, if I remembered my high school biology right. I didn't know if there were enough nerve endings that far up his ass for him to even feel the shitload of semen I was pumping into him. But I decided that whether or not Tucker could feel me breeding him didn't matter. What was important was that, instead of wasting my precious seed by ejaculating yet again into the polishing cloth I stored in the toolshed out back or into the old chamois shirt I kept in my bedroom closet, I was planting it deep in the bowels of a sexually eager young white boy.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the transfer was complete: I had emptied my balls in Tucker's ass. Even though I was done, my dick continued to pulsate, as if trying to spurt every last sperm cell into the boy's hot hole; and Tucker's anal sphincter continued to clutch spasmodically at my rod, as if trying squeeze every last sperm cell out of me.

"Fuck!" I sighed, trying not to put all my weight on Tucker as I relaxed on top of him. "I haven't had a ride like that since the last time I went to Coney Island!"

"What'd you do there?" asked Tucker, snickering. "Fuck some kid on the Cyclone?"

I laughed. "I said it before and I'll say it again: You come up with some wild shit, dude!"

For the next couple of minutes I continued to lie on top of Tucker, playing with his hair while waiting for my dick to doze off. This was taking much longer than I expected since Tucker's sphincter kept spasming and waking it up again. Finally I decided to prop myself up, lift my hips, and slowly pull it out of its warm cocoon. It emerged proudly, like a conquering hero leaving the battlefield, but instead of blood and mud, this hero was covered in semen and shit. At last the head popped out with a soft "splurt."

I told Tucker to tighten his sphincter so none of my sperm would leak out. With his anus being as red and puffy as it now was, I wasn't sure he'd be able to do it, but his youthful muscle tone saved the day, and nary a drop of semen escaped his poop chute.

Afterwards I sat back on my haunches and just stared at Tucker's perfect white ass. He must've felt me looking at him because it wasn't long before he turned his head. His eyes quickly zeroed-in on my still-semi-hard dick, and he stared at it as intensely as I'd stared at his ass.

"Shit, Jamir! Doesn't that fucking thing EVER get soft?"

"Maybe when I'm sleeping," I said, "and not dreaming about sex."

Tucker got quiet again but continued to stare at my slime-coated cock. "I still can't believe you stuck that whole fucking thing up my ass."

"Me neither. I always knew you WERE a big asshole," I said, grinning, "but I never knew you HAD one too!"

Tucker tried hard not to laugh, pressing his lips together as tightly as he could, but after a few seconds he broke down and began to snicker, swearing to get me back with an even worse put-down when I least expected it.

"So, dickhead, now that you've fucked the shit outta me and busted a nut up my butt in my own fuckin' bed--JUST LIKE I FUCKING SAID YOU WOULD, BY THE WAY!--what's next?"

I gave him a crooked little smile. "Well, I guess the next thing would be to do something about that shitload of cum up your ass."

"I should shit it in your fucking mouth and make you eat it. How's that sound, retard?"

"Sounds pretty good."

"Then sit on the floor and lay your head back right here," said Tucker, patting a spot on the edge of his bed, "so I can sit on your fucking face."

"Okay, but first just squat over me, so we can both see how much seed I planted in your little doo-doo hole."

Giggling, Tucker waited for me to get in position then got up and squatted over my head, his puffy red anus aimed at my mouth.

"You ready, dickhead?" the blond asked, looking at me between his legs.

"Yeah, let's see what you've got."

The show began with a long, smelly fart that sounded like Tucker's asshole was celebrating New Year's Eve. This developed into a flatter, wetter noise that previewed the appearance of a glob of sperm, which sprouted out of his hole and grew longer and stickier until it was a full-fledged super-strand of translucent slime, defying gravity as it just hung there. Finally Tucker flexed his anal sphincter, cutting off the strand and allowing it to drop into my mouth. I swallowed it and licked my lips.

"That was good," I said. "Now give me the rest."

"Whatever you say, retard."

I opened my mouth again, and Tucker did the same with his asshole. This time an even bigger glob appeared, which turned out to be the beginning of a stream of semen that drooled steadily out of his anus and into my mouth, aided along by the constant pursing of his pucker, until he had nearly drained his anal canal, leaving me with a surprisingly big mouthful of recycled cum.

"Shit, Jamir!" Tucker exclaimed as he stared at what sat in my open mouth. "Look at all that fucking cum! What the fuck were trying to do, knock me up like a bitch or something?" I nodded and he smiled. "Yeah? Well, it's a good thing that can't happen, 'cause I'd be fucking preggers for sure with a shitload of sperm like that in me!"

"Mmm-hmm," I responded, nodding again. Then, with Tucker and me looking at each other, I closed my mouth and swallowed the slimy wad of shit-flavored baby-makers. And even though there was probably still a good amount of leftover semen in the twists and turns of the boy's bowels, it was nice not to have to worry about a wayward sperm cell swimming upstream to an egg, penetrating it, and prompting a little light-skinned Tucker to start growing inside his belly.

When Tucker was done squeezing my cum out of his shitter, I urged him to go ahead and sit on my face. Though he was, as I mentioned earlier, relatively slim, most of his weight seemed to be concentrated in that bigger-than-normal ass, and having it on my head was oppressive. But this too was a turn-on, and I basked in the perversity of being "smothered" by a cute nine-year-old white boy and being "forced" to tongue his asshole.

When I was done cleaning him, Tucker continued to use my head as a seat cushion, damn near breaking my nose as he sat down hard on my face several times before finally getting up. Afterwards I climbed back in the bed, and we lay side by side relaxing quietly as I again caressed his blond head. At least five minutes passed before either of us said anything.

"So tell me something, Jamir. You ever fuck anybody my age before?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Ever WANTED to?"

"Sure," I confessed, "but I never thought seriously about it."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't like to struggle when I'm fucking, at least no more than I have to, and I have a hard enough time getting my dick in people my own age who are USED to taking it. So I figured it would be WAY too much of a struggle and just too big a hassle to fuck somebody so much younger than me who'd never done it before."

"So I guess now you're rethinking all that, huh?" Tucker asked, sporting a big smug smile.

I smiled back. "Yeah, you might say that."

"I just wish there was some way I could see that fucking super-sized junk of yours going in my ass," said Tucker.

"Well, how about if I make a video with my cell phone next time?" I suggested.

"I've got a better idea," he said, and again I watched his smile morph into something more sinister. "I think I'd like it even better if I saw it going in somebody ELSE'S ass. Maybe Cayden's."

"Who's that?"

"The kid I told you about who likes to suck cock."

My smile widened. "So you want to watch me fuck him up the ass, huh?"

"Yeah. Definitely."

"But do you think he can take it? Like I said, I don't like having to struggle."

"I don't know. All I ever saw him do was suck dick, so it might not be all that easy to fuck him, especially with that horse cock of yours. But I think we should do it anyway, 'cause Cayden's kinda freaky."

"How so?"

"Well, he likes it when you 'make' him do things, only you're not really making him do it, 'cause he likes it. You know what I mean?"

"No, not exactly," I lied, even though I'd just experienced that exact same situation with Tucker's ass planted on my face. But I played dumb because I wanted to hear the cute blond try to explain it.

"Well, even though he'll be crying and telling you to stop, he doesn't really mean it. He wants you to keep doing it, like 'no' really means 'yes.' Get it?"

"Yeah, I think so," I said, deliberately furrowing my brow as if trying to understand.

"That's how we found out he likes sucking cock," Tucker continued. "After gym class one day we had some free time till the end of the period. The gym teacher told us we could do whatever we wanted, and then he went in the office. There were only, like, twelve of us, and we all knew each other pretty well, so we decided to have a hump session on the mats, and we started dry humping each other's butts. So, right in the middle of all this, Cayden pops up and says, 'I don't mind getting my butt humped, but I wouldn't want nobody humping my face.' Naturally that's exactly what we all started doing, and the whole time he kept saying, 'No. Stop,' but he never raised his voice, and he never once turned his head to try to avoid getting dicked in the face. When the last guy had his turn, Cayden said, 'That was messed up, guys. But at least none of you pulled out your dick and tried to stick it in my mouth and make me suck it.'

"At first all we did was look at each other, like, Is this asshole fucking kidding us? Then one guy ran over and looked in the office window. When he saw the gym teacher nodding off, he gave us a thumbs up, and we all pulled our gym shorts and jockstraps down to about mid-thigh. Cayden was watching us like a hawk, and he kept saying, 'No, you better not. I'll tell the teacher. I swear I'll--' But he never got to finish his sentence because the first dick had already been shoved in his mouth. All eleven of us took a turn mouth-fucking him, and the whole time Cayden was moaning and complaining and shit, but whenever one guy finished and pulled out, he never once called for help or tried to get up. He just kept saying, 'No. Stop' until his mouth was full of dick again. That's when we knew he wanted it, that for him 'no,' meant 'yes.'"

I pondered this for a moment then said, "So let me get this straight: You're saying if I stick my dick in this boy's ass and he starts crying and telling me to stop, I should keep going?" I asked, still pretending to try to understand his friend's psyche.

"Yep."

"Wow! That IS freaky!" I said while really thinking, Not so much, since I'd encountered more than a few masochists in my life, but I wanted to seem as surprised by Cayden's behavior as Tucker obviously was. Besides that, the idea of "forcing" myself on a not-so-innocent little boy appealed to the sadist in me, and I was even willing to sacrifice my desire for struggle-free sex to do it.

But something else was going on here. Knowing how selfish Tucker was, I was suspicious that he was so eager to share me with one of his friends instead of keeping me and my horse cock all to himself. Was it really because he wanted a front-row seat to an anal assault on a little boy? (Did he have more of a sadistic need than I'd imagined?) Or was there something else? I was about to ask Tucker about this when, once again, he beat me to the punch.

"That's not the only reason I want you to do Cayden," he admitted. Taking a deep breath, he said, "The other reason is that I REALLY have to get somebody else involved."

"And why is that?"

"'Cause I already know I'm gonna need to talk to somebody besides you about all this shit," he confessed, "and the only way I can do that is by getting somebody else involved. That way I won't have to worry about whoever-it-is broadcasting it to the whole fucking school."

"Good thinking," I said, admiring Tucker's logic. "So tell me more about Cayden. What's he like? Is he...like...good-looking? I mean, does he have long hair...and blue eyes, like yours, or--?"

"If you want to know if he's white, the answer is yes," said Tucker, obviously impatient with my beating around the bush. "He's about as white as you can get, and his hair is long but it's dark. As far as what color his eyes are, How the fuck should I know? All I see when he's sucking me off is the top of his fucking head."

I heard myself chuckling nervously again, just like I had in the car, before mumbling, "...so, Tuck, how'd you know I wanted...I mean, what made you think I preferred--?"

"White boys?" he asked. He looked at me and laughed. "Come on, Jamir, I'm not STUPID. You're like fucking Michael Jackson. If I thought for a minute that black boys were your thing, I never would've put on that little show for you when we got home. That talk we had in the car told me everything I needed to know about what you like."

Once again I was dumbfounded. It was like this kid was a mystic or something. I was about to review everything I'd said to him on that short trip home, but I changed my mind because I knew it wouldn't do any good. I would never figure out what word, facial expression or gesture had tipped him off. But that didn't matter. What DID matter was that I was right on the verge of getting the chance to plant my pole in another young white boy's poop chute.

"And, by the way--in case you're interested--I can probably talk him into taking a shit in that retarded mouth of yours too," Tucker added. "So what do you think? Should I invite him to join us?"

As Tucker and I smiled at each other, we both knew that his question was merely rhetorical, but if an answer had to be given, my dick was screaming a resounding "Yes!!!" Naturally Tucker noticed.

"Shit, Jamir! Your fucking junk is hard AGAIN!" he said, his blue eyes stretched wide again as he gazed at my boner.

"I can't help it. All that talk about Cayden made my little man ready for more action. And it looks like your little boy is ready for more too," I said as I stared at his sweet little erection. "So how about it, Tuck--you down for another round?"

We looked at each other again, and the glint in Tucker's eye was back, telling me all I needed to know.

"Can I sit on it this time?" he asked.

"Sure," I said. "Be my guest."

I proceeded to stretch out on the boy's bed, which was so short that my feet hung over the end of the mattress. Then I reached down and pulled my cock away from my stomach, holding it upright at the base. I was curious to see which way Tucker would face. My money was on towards me. I was pretty sure he'd want to be able to look at me--and me at him--as we fucked.

I was right. Tucker didn't hesitate to straddle me front-to-front, putting his knees on either side of my ribcage. Then he reached back, pulled his ass cheeks apart, and winked at me. I adjusted my cock so that the head was pressing snugly against his asshole. He closed his eyes and began to sit.

"Nngh!!" Tucker winced as the pressure of my glans against his anus increased. Because it was still stretched open and we were both still so well lubricated, I wasn't surprised when it slipped right inside him, which caused him to gasp.

"That was fast," I said.

The nine-year-old opened his eyes just enough to see me, forcing a smile through his grimace. He then pressed his palms against my chest and, taking a deep breath, closed his eyes again, and continued to lower himself onto my rod.

"Mmmmmmmmmm!" Tucker moaned as he sank down. The grimace was still there but much less severe. In fact, his expression now seemed to reflect more concentration than pain. When about half of my shaft was inside him, I let go of it and put both hands on his slender waist, not pushing, just guiding his descent. In less than a minute, all eight-plus inches of my tool were packed inside the boy's hot anal sheath. As I cupped his ass cheeks, Tucker exhaled and opened his eyes. There was still some tension in his face but much less than before, and his dick hadn't lost any of its hardness.

"So how's it feel this way?" I asked him.

"Like it's in me even deeper," Tucker responded, his straining voice reflecting both pain and triumph.

For the next couple of minutes the cute blond just sat there, getting off, I'm guessing, on the same thing I was: my throbbing cock inside his pulsating asshole. But it was time to get going. Tucker's parents would be home soon, and the prospect of being caught with my dick up their only child's ass didn't exactly appeal to me.

Tucker started off slowly, raising himself up only an inch or so before sitting back down again; then he raised up a little higher, letting almost half of my cock out before taking it in again; then he let about six inches out before sitting back down on it. Soon my whole pole was sliding in and out of his tight boy-hole, and I was having a wickedly good time playing Sea Biscuit to this spunky little jockey.

"Yeah, ride that black cock, white boy!" I yelled at him, lifting my hips to meet his downstrokes while smacking his ass. "Take it all the way up your pale fucking ass!"

"Nngh! Nngh! Nngh!" was Tucker's only reply as, with his face all squinched up, he fucked himself on my super-stiff pole.

I wanted to just close my eyes and drink in all the sensations I was feeling, but it was more fun to keep them open and watch Tucker, who was really getting into the action--bouncing, panting, sweating, his hair flying, his prick wagging, and his ass slapping against my crotch as he rode my rod to the finish line.

"Oh, shit!" Tucker suddenly yelled. "Here it comes! Nngh!!"

I watched in fascination as the boy sat down hard on me, pressing his ass firmly onto my crotch, forcing my dick deep inside him. Then his whole body stiffened, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he began to shiver. Two seconds later a tiny stream of translucent sperm spurted out of his cocklet and landed on my stomach. The feeling of his hot, sticky cum on my skin was all it took to set me off.

"Shit!! Fuck!!" I yelled, getting a good grip on Tucker's waist and lifting my hips off the mattress. "Take it, Baby! Take it all in that sweet white ass of yours!"

Being that I'd already shot a mega-load of cum up the fourth grader's ass in Round 1, I figured not enough time had passed for me to replenish my supply, so while my orgasm was strong, I expected my ejaculation to be weak. But as my dick throbbed inside Tucker's rectum, I could tell I was wrong. Just the thrill of fucking this little white boy again had somehow caused my testes to work overtime to regenerate a whole new crop of baby-makers in record time, so instead of firing mostly blanks, I was again filling Tucker's shitter with a big slimy load of cum, and his hot little hiney was again greedily swallowing it up.

As I was shooting the last of my load in Tucker's ass, he collapsed on top of me, his head on my chest and his body still convulsing as the final stages of his orgasm passed through him. I slid my hands down and held on to his butt to make sure my dick didn't accidentally slip out of his anus. We were both utterly exhausted, and it would have been great if we'd have been able to just lie there naked against each other for the rest of the afternoon and into the night, moving only to fuck each other again in a different position. But it was getting late, and Tucker's folks would be home soon. So I kissed him on top of his head and gently squeezed his ass.

"Hey, Tuck, we gotta get moving."

"I know," he sighed.

"So what do we do about the new load of cum up your ass?"

He smirked. "You mean that new nut you busted up my butt?"

"Yeah, that," I snickered. "We don't want your mom, or whoever else does the laundry, finding it in your underwear, and I don't have time to suck it out of you."

"That's okay. I think I want to save it," and with that he casually opened the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a butt plug, surprising the hell out of me.

"Where the fuck did you get that thing? I know you didn't just walk into a sex shop and ask for it."

"Come on, Jamir," Tucker said, looking at me as if I were the dumbest person on Earth. "You can buy ANYthing on line." Lifting himself up to release my dick, he calmly reached back and popped the plug into his asshole. "Mmmmmm! Now I can carry it around with me for the rest of the day."

I just shook my head and smiled.

After that we showered together, and after toweling each other off, we sprayed the bedroom with a deodorizer, opened the window, and turned on the fan to get the smell of sex out of his room. Then we got dressed and gave each other a final hug before I headed back to the garden. I was barely there ten minutes before Tucker's mother drove up, waving to me as she parked in the garage. I waved back, wanting so much to tell her that the garden wasn't the only place I'd planted seeds this afternoon. But this was a good job...and I wanted to keep it :-).

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